Starlight
by Writless
Summary: The Master has survived the end of Gallifrey miraculously unscathed. He searches for the Doctor, but finds Fitz instead. A plain, idiotic, and astonishingly infuriating human. What concerns him is the time lord she wears around her neck. If he doesn't find a way to help, it'll destroy her, along with everything in the universe. First in Starlight series.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This story "follows" canon immediately after season six. It technically follows my first story, Time Lord Unyielding. But don't read that, because it's a very seriously flawed story that I can't be bothered to edit. (It was my first completed story, so I have to keep it around because reasons). This is the first in the Starlight series. It follows the Master, the Eleventh Doctor, Doctor Donna (because I magicked her into a time lord and I love Donna god dammit. I just do.), Jack, and the Ponds. And my original character Fitzgerald. You should totally drop me a line if you're new. Don't be afraid! New people are awesome. Questions, comments, critiques. It's all good. _

_**Summary**: The Master has survived the end of Gallifrey and the Great Time War, somehow unscathed. For the first time in centuries, he finds himself at a loss of what to do. He searches for the Doctor, the only constant he can rely on. Instead, he finds Fitz. A plain, unremarkable, and impeccably rude human. But there is something around her neck that troubles him more than her lack of manners, a time lord consciousness. If he can't help her, it will kill her, which might not be that upsetting. But it might also wipe out the whole of the universe._

* * *

><p>"<em>And I find it kinda funny, I find it kinda sad. The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had."<em>

The Master is searching, but he's not entirely willing to admit he's searching for the _Doctor_. That seems too desperate, too lonely. But it's true. And since he's alone in this building, it seems like a waste of energy to try to deny it. He can't quite describe how anything is different; the Doctor is his adversary, the reason for so many of his devious schemes. It frightens him that he can't remember the source of his discontentment any more. The drums had overwhelmed it, many years and many regenerations ago.

He wonders what exactly the Doctor did to him, that dark day on Gallifrey, where he looked into the Doctor's eyes and saw only forgiveness. Forgiveness, and that crushing sense of burden the Doctor always carried. It had to be some _trick_, had to be. But that wasn't really the Doctor's style, that was _his_ style. And he found that he didn't really have any ulterior motive for finding the Doctor. There _was_ no trick, no ultimate plan to destroy him _or_ steal the TARDIS.

Is this what the Doctor had meant to do? Or had that just been a side effect of removing the drumming? That ceaseless drumming that had been with him every hour, of every day, for almost a century. It was _gone_. He remembered being afraid, afraid of what he might be without the constant sound of the drums. Afraid that they were a fire that burned within him, and if it were extinguished, there would be nothing left of him but a charcoaled shell.

But he had been _wrong_. Instead of a fire, it was an anchor, an anchor that tethered him to the bottom of the sea. And he had been drowning, all this time. He had no idea. How could he have known? But it had defined him, of that he was certain. And he was finding it rather difficult to sift through the broken pieces now that it was gone. There had been so much anger, so much _bitterness_ that had soaked him so thoroughly. Who was he now, if not the Doctor's sworn enemy?

He had woken in a warm grassy field as a completely new man. The vortex manipulator hadn't worked again, of course. No doubt to do with the Doctor's meddling. But he wasn't as bothered by that as he was by the fact that he didn't know where he would go if it _were_ working.

Everything just felt _off_. He was _afraid_. It was different than the fear he had felt when he had been resurrected to fight the Dalek's. He still remembered the icy dread as he watched their entire empire spread across the front lines, watching as it bore down on Gallifrey. But this fear, this fear of the _unknown_. That was somehow _more_ powerful than the day he had fled the war. It filled him with a sense of humility, and he was _not_ a humble man.

So now he was searching, at first it had been for a _purpose_, something to _do _with his newfound…_life_. But now he _knew_, he was looking for the Doctor. In all that time he had spent as a time lord, he had generally spent it _alone_ and it had never bothered him. But it did now, as he worked in this old factory, no company save his own shadow. His memories haunted him, with so little to distract him. The silence in his mind was deafening.

He caught glimpses of his past; faces, names. Old, long forgotten moments. He remembered his time as Professor Yana and wondered if he really was such a bumbling old _fool_. But he immediately regretted thinking it. That man had lived with _purpose_, and responsibility. He had taken it upon himself to save humanity; he built them a ship, a ship that would take them away to somewhere safe, where they could live out their simple lives. He remembered Chantho, and how cruel he had been in the end. He wasn't entirely sure, but he felt as though he regretted his actions. He pushed that thought away, remorse was a _weakness_, no matter what the Doctor had done to him, he would not let it _diminish_ him.

_There._ His attention was drawn back to the simple screen. What was that? The TARDIS? No, too small, too insignificant, and yet, it was making a remarkable blip on his crude radar, so it was definitely _something_. He felt a grin stretch across his face, feeling some sense of direction for the first time in weeks. Even if it were just an excuse to delay the inevitable meeting with the Doctor, he would take it.


	2. Chapter 2

"_Cause he gets up in the morning, and he goes to work at nine, and he comes back home at five-thirty. Gets the same train every time."_

I loved this place; I loved the look of it, the smell of it. The messy stacks of books spilled from the shelves onto the floor, still in some kind of order despite their chaotic appearance. The smell of the old dusty pages mingled with the newer copies that we kept out front, on their own shelf, so as not to infect the veteran tomes who held themselves above such frivolities like 'shiny' and 'pristine'. Mr. Jacobs kept small jars of cinnamon sticks around the store, trying to dissipate what he called a 'musty' smell, but instead it mingled with it, creating a fragrance more powerful and enchanting than I suspected even the most elegant of libraries contained.

Mr. Jacobs was not as enamored with books. From what little I knew of him, it had been his wife who had been the reader, the one who had started up this little business so many years ago. I suspected this was the best way for him to keep her memory with him, and I was glad for it. Mr. Jacobs had a first name, Frank, I was pretty certain. But he didn't look like a Frank with his frail gangly arms, or his thick mustache and head of shock white hair. He looked like a 'Mr. Jacobs' and so that was how I always referred to him. He never bothered to correct me, and so that's just the way it was. He had hired me a year ago, to replace another 'temporary young thing' as he referred to him or her. He stayed in the back mostly, working the books or napping, I didn't much care. When it was slow I could read, or wander the seemingly endless variety of books we had stored in the shelves. Even after having worked here so long, I doubted I knew every story within; there were always more stacks to organize, more cubbies where some had been lost for years. But I liked projects, and I liked organizing. So I had taken it upon myself to start some kind of system in the chaos.

And yet still, I was _bored. _It wasn't really from lack of things to do, there were always customers coming in, however rarely, who were looking for help, looking for a specific story. We always seemed to get those customers, the ones who had read an excerpt so many years ago and it had been nagging them ever since, like a melody stuck in your head that you couldn't quite remember the title too. It used to be a challenge, but those came rarely now a days, and that's where the problems started.

I suppose, it had more to do with my personal life than just work. After all, if I were happily married with children, I probably wouldn't have given the bookstore a second thought. But I wasn't. I did have a boyfriend, Lucas, and he was nice.

…

And that was the only thing that came out of my mouth when I was out discussing it with friends, or with my mother. Who kept hoping that I would settle down and give her some grandchildren. Because, as she liked to remind me, I wasn't getting any younger. I couldn't remember the last time someone, other than my mother, had decided that people in their twenties were old. But then, I wasn't bothered by other people, I was bothered by my mother's frequent voicemails. She seemed to think that me moving in with Lucas two months ago, when my lease had ended, signified that he would shortly be buying me a ring. It took a great deal of effort not to tell her that the main reason I had agreed, was that his apartment happened to be less than four blocks from my work.

I tried to convince myself that wasn't the _only_ reason, but I can only be reasonably sure that I believed that.

The bell over the door rang and I glanced up from my work in the shelves, I carried a small notebook with me, noting the titles, authors, and section I decided the books fit under. A chunk of my dark hair fell from my untidy bun and obscured my view of the door for just a second; I brushed it hastily away and adjusted my glasses higher on my face as a force of habit. But when I looked at the door, no one was there. I frowned as I stood up, most people wouldn't just duck their head in and run for it, surely books weren't _that_ intimidating.

"Hello." The voice popped up behind me so suddenly I dropped the notebook in my hand as I spun around, looking very much like a startled idiot. He stood there, innocently enough, but he looked bigger, something about the way he held himself, something that frightened a tiny part of me. He smiled easily and bent to pick up my notebook. "Sorry, didn't mean to surprise you." His voice held something of a laugh in it, and he was British. That was weird.

"No, sorry. I…" I stopped; I was just going to ramble on if I let myself. "Thank you." I said, as I pulled the notebook out of his hands, trying to plaster my customer service smile onto my face. I realized that although a moment ago, I would have described him as tall, he wasn't more than an inch or so taller than me. "Is there something I can help you find?" I suddenly remembered that was probably why he had approached me, not just to scare me and pick up my notebook.

"Oh, yes." His eyes searched the books behind me as though he had forgotten what he was looking for. They returned to my face and I noticed they were light amber and…_predatory_? No, that was a weird thought. Especially since I rarely looked people in the eye. Intense, his gaze was just intense. "I'm looking for biographies."

"Oh, we've got a great selection of those." I said with my usual ease. "They're just at the top of the stairs, on your left." I pointed him toward the back of the store, the main aisle led directly to the spiral staircase that brought customers to the second floor of the shop. It was only half the size of the main floor, so that it served as a balcony. We had several customers who came in and read up there for hours on the weekends, I always thought of it fondly like a grown up tree house. And yet I felt hesitant to let this man climb up there, giving him a view of the whole store. Another weird feeling I shook off. He looked over my shoulder and gave a satisfied nod.

"Thank you, Miss…?"

It took me a moment to realize that he was expecting me to answer him, since he continued to stand there. "Oh, Fitz. I'm Fitz." I pointed to myself in case I had somehow been unclear. It was rare that I enjoyed the strangeness of my name, but as the confident smile slid from his face, I knew this was one of those moments.

"Fitz?" He stared at me blankly.

"Yeah. It's short for Fitzgerald."

"Oh," He said, understanding in his voice. "Your last name, I see."

"No," I shook my head. "It's Fitzgerald Grant, actually."

"Well," He said, I had ruffled his feathers. Good. "Hope you gave your parents hell for that."

I smirked at him; the thought had crossed my mind on several occasions. "My mom was a big Gatsby fan." I shrugged.

"Indeed." He raised his eyebrows as though doubting my ambivalence on the matter. But what did I care if he believed me or not?

"Well, let me know if I can help you with anything else." I smiled brightly and returned to the stack of books on the floor in front of me. He seemed to understand he was dismissed and started to walk away.

"That really is a lovely necklace, Fitz." He paused in the aisle, smirking at me again, his mouth curled around my name as if it were some exotic fruit. And there was that look in his eyes again. It was hard to distinguish but it felt very much like we were on animal planet and I was a rodent to his hawk. It made my skin crawl. And then he wandered to the back of the store and I could hear his boots thumping lightly on the metal stairs. My fingers felt for the necklace automatically, it was heavy in my hand. A dark red stone that cast a star when I tilted it just so, Lucas had gotten it for me. An anniversary present for a date that I had forgotten. Oops. I tucked the pendant beneath my shirt, remembering the look in the man's eyes.

"You about ready to go home?" The door behind the counter had opened and Mr. Jacobs had emerged without me noticing. A thick framed pair of glasses overwhelmed his narrow face as he stared down his nose at me.

"Oh," I looked at the plain watch on my wrist, it was nearly five and I hadn't realized it. "Yeah, I guess so. There's a man upstairs. Did you want me to stick around?" Mr. Jacobs peered upstairs, holding his glasses out as though he might be able to see through the flooring that hid the customer from view.

"Naw. I think I can handle one measly customer." He grinned at me. "Go on back to that fella of yours."

Great, my mother had been secretly communicating with my boss, just what I needed, someone else to disappoint. Peachy.

"Thanks Mr. Jacobs." I smiled at him as I stashed my notebook in the back pocket of my jeans. He never bothered with organizing, though he did seem to respect my system enough that all of my work wasn't undone when I came in the next day. I grabbed my messenger bag from under the counter and threw on my gray pea coat.

"Hope you brought your umbrella." Mr. Jacobs nodded to the windows that faced the street. I frowned, it had been sunny this morning, cold, sure, but there hadn't been any clouds. As I followed his gaze I realized it was much darker than it should have been for five o'clock and the windows were blurred with rain.

"That would have been nice." I muttered, but Mr. Jacobs didn't seem overly interested either way, his attention went back to the folded newspaper in his hands. I popped the collar of my jacket up, as though it will do me any good, and step out the doors. The sound of the rain overwhelms any other ambient noises and I can see the wind pushing it across the street, splattering up into my face. Somewhere in the distance thunder rumbles in a somber tone. Four blocks was going to be too far for me to try and duck into every alcove to stay dry. There was no hope.

I took a deep breath and marched out into the downpour, with my head held high. Briefly. The cold of it down the back of my neck did make me scrunch down and enjoy the free shower less than I should have. My glasses caught heavy drops and almost made my vision just as terrible as if I had taken them off. Still, I marched down the street, knowing that a warm apartment, and possibly liquor, was waiting there for me. I was surprised to see another pair out braving the storm, they walked toward me on the sidewalk and I slowly migrated to the far right to get out of their way. Even as I did that, I realized that they were intent on taking up the entirety of the street, which was ridiculous, since the sidewalks were huge in this part of town. I finally looked up, to give them my best scowl, when I realized there was something wrong. My legs reacted first, grinding me to a halt, even as I was still considering walking through them.

They were blue. Not just, melancholy, or wearing a lot of denim. They were _blue._ My mind was still trying to stretch around that when I realized their unnaturally long limbs were growing _substantially_ longer, like play-doh. Alarmingly, they were reaching out for me. I'd like to say I was clever enough to step backward, but instead, I just stared at them, dumbfounded with rain dripping off my nose and soaking into my coat. I couldn't even speak, it was just _too _weird. Some part of me wanted to know this was a hallucination, wanted to wait for the image to go away. And that part had sufficiently beaten down the part that screamed at me to run, even as the giant blue claw started to swoop toward me, reaching for my throat.

"Run." A voice commanded to my left, grabbing my hand and not giving me any time to decide if I would obey. It was the man from the bookstore, his black hoodie pulled up over his blond hair and he was pulling me into the street, away from the creatures. I felt the breeze as its hands just passed my face and then I was focusing on keeping up with the black sweater in front of me. He led me between the buildings and we ducked down the alley, turning a few times, winding our way around until I wasn't exactly sure where we were, apart from the fact that we were _away_ from those things. He crouched behind a dumpster pulling me along behind him, and snuck a glance around the corner. "Here," He said, pushing something into my hands. "Put this on."

I looked down to see it was a silver ring, rather plain looking but it was still warm from where it had been sitting against his skin. My brain decided to reconnect itself to the rest of me and I scowled at him.

"What the hell is going on?" My tone sparked something in him, because instead of keeping watch on the street beyond the dumpster he turned back and gave me an incredulous look.

"Don't thank me or anything, just saving your life. Put it on."

"I don't know how things work where you come from," I said, pointing my finger directly into his chest, which really seemed to infuriate him. "But people aren't blue, they don't stretch like taffy, and I don't accept jewelry from strange homeless men!" I wasn't sure why my voice was getting so loud, but it felt good so I didn't bother to check myself.

"Homeless? I'm not homeless!" This, in addition to my finger in his chest, seemed to be what really aggravated him. He snatched the ring out of my hand and jammed it onto the same finger I had been jabbing into his chest. Touché, hobo. Touché. "Now if you'll just shut up for a minute, I think I can get us out of here. And then we can discuss the blue taffy people." He looked more exasperated than angry so I gave him my best glare to show I wasn't intimidated. I was wet, and cold, and so freaking confused it hurt my head. But I wasn't going to be bullied, unless he turned blue suddenly, then all bets were off.

"If you don't tell me what's going on-" My voice caught in my throat as I saw a blue vine snaking around the corner of the dumpster.

"What?" He looked perplexed by my sudden silence. But I had turned useless once again, I could only gawk at it as it slithered around his ankle and yanked him to the ground. He scrambled for a grip on anything as he slid forcefully backward, down the street and around the corner. "Run!" He shouted as he vanished from my view, the scream dying on my lips as I stood there. I could feel my body vibrating as if I was going to explode right then and there. I crept toward the corner, too afraid to run, for fear another blue vine was coming for me. I got a firm grip on the dumpster behind me and poked my head around the brick wall.

They were at the end of the street, dangling the man in the air like a prize they had plucked from a vending machine. They both seemed occupied with him, no one was searching for me. For some reason that didn't bring me any real comfort.

"You should be running!" I could barely hear him shouting over the rain that still came pouring down. I ducked behind the wall again, afraid that the blue men would turn and spot me. But after a few heartbeats passed that didn't result in me being dragged from my hiding place, I braved the view again. Apparently, they didn't speak English, because neither of them had bothered to investigate what he was yelling about. With a blinding flash, I thought I had been mistaken, and underneath the drumming of the rain, I could hear the crackling buzz of electricity. As my eyes adjusted I could see they were still holding him aloft, but he was rigid, his face contorted in agony. It held that way for a moment until the buzzing stopped and he was limp in their grip again. His breathing was labored as he weakly struggled against their hold, he looked up and even from this distance, I knew he could see me. "Run!" He shouted angrily, even as the flash appeared again, the end of the word turned to a long strained groan as his teeth were clenched together.

I didn't wait for him to tell me again, I turned and ran, away from the fading noise of his suffering.


	3. Chapter 3

"_I feel the pain of everyone. Then I feel nothing."_

The power surged through him like a fire, tightening all his muscles in one excruciating moment that seemed to last forever. And then it was over and he was panting for breath, praying to whatever gods still existed in the cosmos that it might be over quickly. He had just enough sense left to realize that they weren't going to let that happen. He was a time lord, he was a _feast_ and they were going to savor every last drop. They could feed off his life force for days. In fact, they might take him back to the ship and allow him to recover briefly before finishing him off. It could be _weeks_ of this. It was difficult not to let that thought discourage him.

But at least _she_ would have the time; a small voice in his head spoke up. Perhaps with the bio-damp, they wouldn't even realize it was her they had been chasing. Perhaps they would leave this planet. It was a stretch, but it was something to hold on to.

_Look at that_, he grinned bitterly. _Just like the Doctor after all._ Here he was, swooping in to save the damsel in distress, just like that heroic _idiot_. Always loved a good damsel, that Doctor. Of course, the Doctor had always managed to survive his adventures, a venture he was having some trouble with.

His musings were torn away as the electricity ripped through him again. The only tangible thoughts he had now were of his skin peeling away from his bones, and he couldn't even gather the breath to scream. An hour later, or a second, he had no way of knowing when it ended. But it did, it released him and he felt his body trembling violently. His hearts hammered in his chest, wildly out of control.

He should have some plan by now, some way to escape. But he couldn't even gather the strength to think. His mind was empty, blank. All he wanted to do was lie down and die. This was not going to be the dignified way he had always envisioned going out. He almost wished the Doctor had left him on Gallifrey, left him to die. Despite his insanity, he had made the right choice, even if it was fueled by his hate. There had at least been some respectability in that.

But maybe, this was his last gift to himself, a forgiveness of sorts. Perhaps it had been worth it, to make the right choice, and not have it be an act of vengeance, but sacrifice. Maybe there was some small glory in that as well. It would pass unnoticed, save for him, and the girl. Maybe that was something.

He gritted his teeth as another charge pulsed through him, sucking away his life, bit by bit. But somewhere, he was just aware enough to hear a voice, _her_ voice.

"Hey Grover!" She shouted.

Stupid, _stupid_ ape. The tension released from his body again, she had gained the Joulex' attention. _Stupid _ape. He had told her to run, had told her _several_ times. Of course, it was difficult to maintain his annoyance as the pain still throbbed through him.

"Try this on for size!" She yelled and a bag arced over his head. He could just see where it connected with the Joulex' skull, and suddenly he was falling. Completely unprepared for that, he took the brunt of the drop on his head and shoulder, crumpling to the wet pavement with a heavy thud.

"Yeah, I'm looking at you too, ugly!" She was still shouting, but he didn't have the energy to look up, it was difficult enough to keep his eyes open. But the second body dropped nearby in the rain soaked road. "I knew twenty pounds of books would come in handy some day." Her voice was immediately closer as she was pushing her arms under his shoulder, trying to lift him up.

"What-" He didn't struggle against her, though he wasn't sure if he could resist if he wanted to. He saw them both now, crumpled to the ground, reducing to their minimal state. She had knocked them out cold. Lucky shot, they had been feeding, they were distracted, that was all. "Run you idiot," His head lolled on his shoulders as he tried unsuccessfully to scowl at her.

"Yeah, sure, no problem. Happy to save your ass. Will you get _up_?" She was still tugging on his arm, trying to lift him to his feet. He placed an unsteady hand on the ground, seeing if perhaps his muscles would cooperate. It was definitely an effort, but slowly they were gaining altitude. Once they stood, he leaned heavily against her, unable to support his own weight. "Come on big guy, you have to move your legs or I'll just leave you here and you can explain to those two why they've got killer migraines."

"You should just go," He told her, feeling his legs fold beneath him.

"Stop being so dramatic," She groaned with the extra weight and shook him in annoyance. "Get up, I'm not leaving you." He was already on his knees when she gripped his chin with her free hand. "Hey!" Her gray eyes blazed into his. "Get _up_." He recognized something in that tone. Something of himself. Of course, when he used that tone, he wasn't carrying anyone to safety. He let her pull his arm back over her shoulder and stood again.

"Alright," He nodded, shaking his head to bring back some kind of awareness. "Alright, let's go." His steps were short and halting, but she kept pace with him so that they were finally crossing the street.

"So what should I call you anyway? Because apparently I can't keep calling you 'that homeless guy'." Her voice was nervous, that was good, she was afraid. At least that meant she wasn't a complete idiot.

"M-" But he stopped himself, is that who he still wanted to be? The Master? All of that hate had been so exhausting, and where had it gotten him? "Professor." He finished. "I'm the Professor."

"Professor? Professor what?"

Well, that had been one benefit to having been known as the Master. He thought to himself. There was no follow up question. "Just the Professor." He mumbled, unwilling to argue the matter any further. She gave him a skeptical look as they climbed up the sidewalk.

"Sure, and I'm the one with the weird name." She muttered. He had just enough strength to smirk at her before he had to refocus his efforts on moving his legs forward, one step at a time.


	4. Chapter 4

"_Nobody said it was easy. No one ever said it would be this hard. Oh, take me back to the start."_

I was staring into space, trying to remember that moment when I had still been sane. I was almost certain it had been less than an hour ago. And yet, it already seemed light years away. From the safety of my apartment, I tried to convince myself it had been some strange, hypothermia-induced hallucination. Maybe I had been struck by lightning…and had forgotten. That _could_ explain why I was remembering weird blue men, that were…_stretchy_.

A muffled groan from the couch brought me crashing back down. The strange man seemed substantial enough, the _Professor_, as he had introduced himself. He was still here, which made him a very good hallucination, or a very bad proof of…well, I didn't know what. He was currently staining the upholstery of my once, fairly clean looking, couch. It was all hanging on him. I had either suffered some serious, and possibly irreversible, brain damage. Or what I just witnessed had _actually_ happened. I wasn't sure which was worse.

I was lying to myself, of course. I wanted it all to be pretend, I wanted to wake up _right goddamn now_.

If I had seen those blue creatures on TV I would have laughed at them, derided the props master and the entire production staff for letting such a stupid character onto the screen. Possibly thrown popcorn at them in scorn, if, you know, popcorn was handy. But I hadn't seen them on TV, and I did _not_ feel like laughing. I felt like crying, screaming, and then curling up into a tight ball under my bed until the nice men in white coats came to take me away. It was not reassuring to feel that way, not in the least.

I held a mug of hot water in my hands, sipping from it occasionally. I had tried to brew some tea, but had hated it so much that I had tossed it into the sink. Opting instead, for the flavor of scalding water. Lucas had always told me how good tea was for me, how calming. I thought maybe with my imminent death creeping up on me, I wouldn't mind the taste. I was wrong, impending doom or not, I hated tea.

If nothing else, holding the warm mug was doing me some good. It seemed like the right, pensive and thoughtful thing to be doing in the moment. I had already burned my tongue twice, forgetting that hot water was, in fact, _hot_. But the pain didn't bother me much, I'm pretty sure that it meant that everything here was _real_. If that was supposed to reassure me, I certainly wasn't feeling it.

I shifted my glance back to where the Professor lay, sprawled on the couch. He had dropped there the instant we had entered the apartment. Mumbling something about just needing a short rest. And then he was completely out, like he had shut off a switch in his head. No amount of shaking or screaming had roused him, and I had done plenty of both. So I tried to busy myself around the apartment. I changed out of my wet clothes, though the chill of the rain had already sunk deep into my bones. I tried to dry my hair, but I kept thinking I could hear the front door opening over the whining of the blow drier. Anything in the room that was blue became an automatic suspect. And that's when I decided I was just a little too wired to do anything but stand there and wait. Either for the aneurysm in my head to burst and kill me, or for the Professor to wake.

I hadn't called the cops yet. It seemed like the right thing to do, somewhere in my muddled brain. But what would I say? Blue men attacked me and this stranger, who calls himself the Professor, a man who might be dead on my couch?

Then the men in white coats really would come, and I wouldn't be any closer to the answers I wanted. I scowled out into the street lamps below, trying to discern if the trash bin had always been that particular shade of blue, and if it had moved.

What if he _was_ dead? What the hell was I going to do then? Was I standing in the living room with a freaking _corpse_?

My eyes lingered on the couch. I should actually check to see before I started to give myself a panic attack. Especially because if that _were_ the case, I needed to call the cops _immediately_. I don't think my 'I didn't call because I thought I was going crazy' argument would serve as a very convincing statement when they hauled me off to prison. I placed my water down on the coffee table and shooed away Sylvester, who had planted himself on the stranger's chest. My hands were shaking too badly when I tried to feel for his pulse so I knelt down and pressed my ear to his chest. I waited quietly, taking a deep calming breath as I tried to prepare for the worst-case scenario. An excited giggle came from the back of my throat as I heard a beat. But…no. There were two beats? Maybe I had failed anatomy; I shifted my ear around and listened again, frowning in concentration.

There, I reassured myself. One heart beat. Slow and steady. But…there was something, it was faint, but it was there. I shifted my ear toward the center of his chest. And then I could hear them both, there were two heartbeats. Blue men. Two hearts. I felt like I was going to pass out.

"My head…" A voice above me groaned and I jumped back so quickly I slammed my elbow on the coffee table. Sane me, would have sworn loudly. I didn't swear. Out loud. "What are you-?" He frowned at me as I scuttled back from the couch, cradling my elbow as I went. But he grinned when he saw my mug of water. "Ah, perfect. Tea." He found himself still pinned by the mound of ginger fur that had moved to his stomach. "Go. Away." He said the words deliberately. Sylvester flicked his tail irritably, but relented, jumping down before the Professor had to remove him. Blue men, excessive heartbeats, talking to cats. It was already tipping the scales on 'way too much' toward the 'a shit-ton and a half _past _too much'. I backed myself all the way to the wall that separated the living room from the kitchen, unsure of where else to go.

No, I shook myself mentally. That wasn't that crazy, I talked to my cats too.

Except, they had never listened. Ever. And I got the very _distinct_ impression that Sylvester had been listening. Okay, it was crazy, totally crazy. I was three weeks into my cruise to Loony town, with Captain Insanity to guide the ship. I believe the technical term was 'bat-shit crazy'.

"Is this…" He paused as he sipped from the mug and looked up at me skeptically. "Is this just water?"

"Yep." Was all I could force myself to say in my oddly squeaky voice.

"American's." He muttered as he shook his head, standing fluidly from the couch. He moved much easier than he had only an hour before and headed toward the kitchen. I jumped as he approached me, wondering where I would run as soon as his back was turned. But I was apparently less casual than I had hoped.

"What's wrong?" He asked with a frown.

"Nothing." My voice was suspiciously high-pitched; I wasn't going to be getting any Oscar's in the near future. I plastered a smile on my face to compensate but I could feel my teeth grinding together. I doubted it had the reassuring effect I had been hoping for.

"Fitz," He put the mug down on the counter and turned toward me. I searched in vain for a weapon, a rock, anything with heft to it. My eyes finally settled on a table lamp nearby and I took what I hoped was a subtle step toward it. "Why are you looking at me like I've sprouted a second head?"

I couldn't help it then, the strained smile widened until even I was pretty sure I looked like a lunatic. At least that'll make it easy to identify when they take me away. I started to laugh, hysterical high pitched laughing. My stomach started to hurt I was laughing so hard and I felt tears coming to my eyes. The Professor had a growing look of concern on his face and I felt bad that I hadn't let him in on the joke.

"Hearts actually," I managed between giggles. "Two hearts." I snorted, the laughs starting to turn to sobs. But I had finally closed the distance between me and the lamp and I felt my hand close around the cold metal reassuringly. Of course, I was too afraid to actually wield it, so I just stood there, holding a lamp. Laughing.

"Oh," His face relaxed, if I had hoped he was going to deny it, or even _try_ to deny it, those hopes were dashed. "Fitz, why don't you sit down? Just for a moment. I can explain." He held his hands out placatingly and stepped toward me. I felt my grip tighten on the lamp, but I still couldn't lift it. Tears were streaming down my face and I was pretty sure it wasn't from the laughter anymore. They were the brain cells that I still planned to use for normal things, like, cooking, or watching TV. They were all turning to jelly in my head and melting away. I was having a total nervous breakdown. And instead of buying a fancy car and hitting on men younger than me, I was bursting into tears, in front of the man with two hearts. I hadn't realized he had gotten so close until he put his hand on my shoulder.

"I'm not going to hurt you." I searched his eyes as he spoke, he didn't seem to be lying. Of course, what did I know? I was a lunatic. He tried to pull the lamp from my fingers, but they were frozen in a death grip, and he had no luck. "That's fine," He nodded, letting go. "You just…keep the lamp. But sit down for a moment, yeah? I'll make us some tea, not just…" His gaze wandered to the discarded mug again. "Hot water."

I still had that absurd grin on my face, but I let him push me until my knees folded and I dropped onto the couch. I was keeping the lamp, damn _right_ I was keeping the lamp. Also, I didn't know if I could open my fingers any more.

"Maybe…try and breathe." He sounded like he was talking to a two year old, clearly just as uncomfortable with me losing control as I was. Great, just what I needed. Someone _else_ who had no idea what to do.

What I _actually_ needed was someone to slap me and get me to pull my shit back together. I needed _myself_ in a slightly less irrational state. Instead, I was stuck with a double-hearted homeless man who liked _tea_. I tried to focus on breathing anyway, because if I didn't, I was worried I might actually stop.

He sat deliberately on the far end of the couch, when he returned with two steaming mugs. I watched him, unblinking, like suddenly he had developed the power to move faster than light, and unless I vigilantly stared him down, I was doomed. My mug had been left on the edge of the table, while he sipped from his own.

"It's alright," He reassured me, a skeptical look on his face. "It's just tea."

I wasn't sure what his game was. I reached out for the drink anyway, my other hand still firmly on the lamp. I sniffed it once, as though I'd be able to tell if he had done something to it. That was a laugh, I couldn't tell the difference between garlic and pepper. I gingerly took a sip. Ugh. It was still tea. Still the flavor of belch and wretch, in a hot cup of soup. I tipped it back, chugging as quickly as I could, the hot water scalding my lips as I went. If he was going to poison me, I reasoned, I might as well get it over with.

He watched me with a startled expression and I gasped for air as I finished half of it. I could chug a beer with the best of them, the tea had been no match for me. I waited for some kind of shooting pain to reach up and throttle me, or, maybe to feel queasy, I don't know, I had never been poisoned before. But other than my throbbing mouth where the water had burned me, nothing came. I was still pretty determined to hit him with the lamp though, either way, he had made me drink _tea_, that in itself was inexcusable.

"Are you alright?" He asked with an incredulous look as I plunked the mug back down on the table.

"Have you still got two hearts?" The potential that I was slowly dying from poison had shaken my tongue loose and prompted me to be a brat. I was _exceptionally_ good at that.

"Yes…"

"Then no. I'm still freaking out." I crossed my arms across my chest defiantly. "Should I check under your shirt to see if you're _blue_ too?" I glared at him, suddenly that seemed within the realm of possibility.

"Would you like to?" He raised an eyebrow and I was pretty sure, no, I was _certain_ he smirked at me. Did he just make a pass at me? Did a mutant homeless man who calls himself the Professor, _just _make a pass at me?

"No!" I blurted out a little louder than maybe I needed to. But my indignity was rising above my sense of panic. Somewhere, I suspected that's what he had intended, which annoyed me further. I clutched the lamp as menacingly as I could and glared at him. "I want to know what the _hell_ is going on!"

"That's good. Because we don't really have the time." He leaned forward and put his own tea aside, wiping the smirk from his face. "I'm going to explain, but I need you to stay _calm_. Can you do that, Fitz?" He asked in a tone that implied he had very little patience, and I had already used up most of the quota.

"I dunno _Professor_. It'll only cost you a lamp-shaped lump in your head to find out." I shrugged, sounding braver than I felt.

"Alright," He sighed. "For starters. I'm not human."

"Are you the terminator?" I asked him conspiratorially. "I've got some terrible news, I'm not John Connor." My inner snark was rising up like a tide. I suspected it was protecting me from another round of hysterical giggles. Of course he wasn't _human_, he had two hearts, _two_! But then, hearing it confirmed did make a small voice in my head scream, I stuffed her down as best as I could.

"No," He rubbed at his temples irritably. "I'm a time lord."

I snorted, but this was less hysterical, and more judgmental. "Lord of time. My, aren't we impressive."

"And the creatures outside," He continued wearily, despite my interruptions.

"The blue things."

"The _Joulex_." He corrected me, the hint of a growl in his voice.

"Blue things," I muttered as I gulped down the remainder of my tea. It seemed to irritate him, and that helped me hold on to what was left of my dignity, or sanity. Whichever. He did look as though he wanted to hit me with the lamp. Well, too bad, smart guy, if anyone was feeling the fury of the lamp today, I was determined it would be him.

"Yes." He said, defeated. "_Them_. They're also not human. And they were here for _you_."

"Me?" I squeaked again, there went my carefully practiced indifference. "What do they want with me?"

"Search me," He said, looking rather unimpressed. Note to self: Aliens. Are. Jerks. "They feed off life energy. But humans have so little, I'd be surprised they would bother coming here at all. Although, I think it might have to do with that necklace." He nodded to where the red teardrop pendant had fallen out of my shirt. "It's giving off an incredible reading, even I was able to track it with your," He scoffed at the TV, "Rudimentary technology."

"You tracked me down?" I asked, incensed that I had an alien stalker. Well, more than one, anyway.

"Yes," He said with a frown. "I didn't realize it would be…" He looked at me again. "I was looking for something else."

"Well…" I said, glaring at the necklace. "What's to stop them from finding it again?" I started to yank it away, over my head. "We can just give it to them; won't that make them go away?"

"No," He shook his head, gesturing for me to stop. "Don't do that. They're not a species you want to…feed." I didn't like the way he had phrased that _at all_. "That ring," He nodded to the silver band that was still on my finger, I had forgotten it completely. "That's a bio damper. That should buy us a few hours, at least."

"Oh," I looked at my hand cautiously, trying to see the magical powers it possessed that made me somehow invisible. I didn't see any; it looked like a plain, _cheap_, ring. "But then, how did they find you?" I asked, remembering that creeping tendril that had snatched him in the alley. I would have _nightmares_ about that tendril. If I ever went to sleep again.

"Well," He smiled, somewhat sardonically. "Time lords are something of a Joulex delicacy. When I took the ring off, they found a new target." Something flashed in his whiskey eyes and I thought I recognized the pain from earlier; it had _not_ been a pleasant experience.

"You took it off…" I struggled with the words. "So they wouldn't find me?" He gave a short nod and I stared down at the lamp still clutched in my hand, guiltily. "That was nice." I mumbled, unable to look him directly in the eye.

"Yes. I seem to be just _full_ of surprises." His tone was scornful, but he seemed to be talking more to himself. Which wasn't incredibly reassuring.

"Won't they just find you again?" I asked, I wasn't entirely sure where these questions were coming from, since the only thoughts I distinctly remembered having involved me screaming until I passed out.

He gave a laugh and shook his head. "They've drained me so much I doubt I'll register as little more than a human. We're safe for now. But," He decided to pick the absolute worst word from the English dictionary. I hated it, and the way he said it gave me the sneaking suspicion that there was never going to be _good_ news, ever again. "That won't last. Have you got a passport?" His attention had shifted back to me.

"No."

"Yeah," He leaned back on the couch thoughtfully. "Me neither." He rested his head against his hands, thinking. "Oh!" He said a moment later, sitting up again. "Mobile, give me your mobile." He made an urgent gesture with his hands and I was already fishing it out of my pocket, handing it over without thinking to protest.

"Hello?" The other line had picked up almost instantly after he had dialed it. "Yeah. Get me Edith. Right now." His voice took on a commanding tone that I wasn't quite prepared for and I felt my hand unconsciously tighten on the lamp. "I'm sure she is." He said snidely. "Wake her up. Now." His face contorted strangely as well, I had thought he had been irritated with me before, but I hadn't seen this. His wait was, unsurprisingly, brief. I almost wanted to help them find whoever it was they were looking for and shake her awake myself, if only to wipe that terrifying look off his face. "Yes. Hello Edith. It's me." He let her speak for a moment before releasing an irritated sigh. "I can't explain just now. But I need a jet, to Cardiff. Right away. I'm in the states." He stopped, listening for a moment, holding his hand against the receiver.

"Have you got a car?" He asked me in a quiet tone so benign I almost forgot to answer him. I managed a quick shake of my head, what did I need a car for? I was a five-minute walk to work. But he had snapped back to…whatever _character_ he was.

"Yes. I need a car as well. Send it to…" He paused just long enough to retrieve an old bill from the coffee table and read the address into the phone. "Edith," He crooned in a mocking way. "I remember a time when you followed orders when they were given. Have things changed so much?" There was a deadly edge to his tone and I managed to repress the urge to shudder. "Thank you, Edith." He snapped the phone shut abruptly and handed it back to me.

"Alright," He sighed, pushing himself up from the couch. "Have you got spare clothes? I…" He made a repulsed face. "Smell." He wasn't lying, the trip he had spent sliding down the alleyway had done nothing for his hygiene. Or my couch, for that matter.

"Yeah." I stood up, deciding to leave the lamp behind. Something made me suspect that if I really needed to defend myself; the lamp just wasn't going to cut it. I headed back to the bedroom, Lucas had plenty of spares, and they were about the same size. It was mostly white shirts and black slacks, since that was his work uniform, so I suspected it was something he would be the least concerned about missing. I tugged a set down from the hanger but jumped out of my skin as I turned and realized he had followed me. "H-here." I held them out at arm's length, trying to slow my heart rate.

"Excellent. Better than _sweats_." He said the word with disdain as he pulled his black sweater up over his head. "See?" He said as he tossed it carelessly to the floor. "Not blue." He said with a grin. I had to admit, he was right. He was definitely pale beneath the shirt, not blue at all, and lightly muscled. Not that I was looking, definitely not. He stuffed his arms through the white shirtsleeves and started to button the neck closed. "You should get a bag packed; the car is going to be here shortly."

"Bag packed?" I stared at him, immensely pleased with myself that my focus was on his face and not his open shirt.

"Yeah. Cardiff? Jet? I made a phone call?" He stopped long enough to look at me as if I was an idiot. "Any of this ringing a bell?"

"Hah!" I laughed at him. "I'm not going anywhere with _you_ space cadet. I appreciate what you did out there, but I'm _out_. I don't want _anything_ else to do with this." My hands were waving wildly in the air, in a failed attempt to convey how serious I was. "Do you hear me? I'm done! I'm going to have a nice laugh about this at the bar, and when I wake up tomorrow; I'm going to forget it _ever_ happened." I reassured myself that there really _was_ enough liquor in the world to make that true.

"I'm sure there's a mini bar on the plane." He said with a shrug. Smirking again, _dismissing_ me, as if I hadn't even said anything of importance.

"Hey." I said, drawing his attention with my sharp tone. "I am _not_ going with you." I made sure he knew this was my 'for sure serious' face. I had been saving it for just such an occasion.

"Listen, Fitz." He finished buttoning up his shirt in the mirror that hung from the closet before turning back to me with a patronizing look. "You're going to come with me, because, you know what? You're _bored_." I felt a chill as he echoed my sentiments from earlier in the day. He placed his hands on my shoulders in an attempt to be reassuring, but I could only feel myself cringing. "You're bored of this place, and it's killing you. You were practically screaming it." He grinned and raised his eyebrow. "Think of this…as an adventure. It'll be fun."

"Maybe I like being bored." My argument was about as convincing as a limp noodle.

"Well," He shrugged, snatching a black tie from where it sat on the closet shelf and watched himself in the mirror as he tied it with an efficiency I had never seen Lucas master. "You're also coming with me, because if you don't. You'll die." His tone had a kind of finality to it that made me suspect he was being very blunt with me. I tried to come up with some kind of dispute, anything that might counter what he was saying; when I realized he was unbuttoning his jeans. "Are you just going to stand there and watch me change?" He asked with a dubious look. I felt the blood rush to my face and he smiled at me in a smug way that only made the feeling of mortification worse, if that were possible.

I stormed past him, out the door, refusing to look back.

"You are the _worst_ alien." I slammed the door and shouted loud enough so he could be sure to hear me. "Ever!"


	5. Chapter 5

_"My reflection, dirty mirror. There's no connection to myself"_

She had been silent for most of the plane ride, except to speak with the stewardess. He supposed it was her act of defiance, she was _annoyed_ with him. He wasn't concerned with that, not really. There was plenty of reading to do, the political circles kept turning, and he had to admit, during his brief involvement, he had been fascinated by the constant flux of events.

But his gaze continued to drift over to her between the articles in the newspaper. Despite her proclamation that she was going to drink until she forgot everything that had happened, the only thing she had accepted was ice water. That was too bad; she'd probably be more pleasant and decidedly less aggravated with him if she _had_ had a few drinks in her.

He was not oblivious to what she was so wound up about. On their way to the airport, their car had passed the bookstore she worked at. Well, _had_ worked at. It was a smoldering ruin as they drove by, the Joulex had made easy work of it. No doubt, the old man had been within, and he had done something foolish. It probably hadn't ended well for him. It rarely did with the Joulex.

She had started to scream and shout, more hysterical and decidedly more _angry_ than she had been even when she had discovered he wasn't human. She was demanding all sorts of things, they should call the police, find the Joulex, and she was most insistent that they stop the car. He had refused. The telltale sirens already signaled that the local authorities were aware of the problem. If they stopped, they would only be detained for questioning. Questions they couldn't really answer. That was time they didn't have to waste. Finding the Joulex was exactly what they _didn't_ want to be doing at that particular moment. They had a minimal advantage, and he wasn't about to throw that away for some expired _human_.

Of course, he knew he was being callous. He could see it in her eyes when he told the driver that they would continue on. She had _hated_ him in that moment. Even when it was obvious there had been nothing there for her. If the old man wasn't a smoking skeleton within, he had probably suffered a fate worse than burning, and he knew she didn't want to see the results of that. Occasionally he could feel her eyes boring into him with that look of loathing. He didn't know why it bothered him; it was a nagging voice in the background. He used to relish that look, used to laugh in the faces of those who wore it. He tried to brush the thought away, it didn't matter what she thought of him. In fact, it was better that she _did _despise him, for her own sake. _Humans_, he rolled his eyes, nothing but unsophisticated piles of vertebras and inflated emotions.

And yet. He found himself opening his mouth to speak. Almost unwillingly. Trying to quiet that troublesome tone in his mind.

"He was already dead." He said, in a factually accurate and flat tone. That had come out rather more curt than he had meant it and he returned his eyes to the newspaper to avoid gauging her reaction. Out of the corner of his eye, he did notice that she turned away from the window she had been staring out for the past seven hours. She said nothing and turned back toward the skyline, he assumed with a haughty gaze. Oh well, he had tried, and if she was just going to remain a human spoiled brat-

"I could have been there." She muttered, almost under her breath. He let out a slow sigh and looked up; there she was, scowling at him. Why did they always _insist_ on being so sentimental?

"You would have died with him." He said evenly, putting his paper down and daring her to refute him. She shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. Apparently, determined to make the remaining two hours just as silent as the others had been. He softened. "Fitz, I'm sorry. There was really nothing that could be done. He was gone." That got her attention, he wasn't sure which was more amusing, the look of shock on her face, or the way her mouth hung open, unable to form words. He told himself he had only said it to make sure she would cooperate in Cardiff, and he almost believed it.

"Thanks," She looked down into her cup and started to chew on one of the ice cubes. He took that as a sign that they would return to their silent flight. Perhaps she looked a little less sullen than before. "So…what's in Cardiff?" She asked casually, surprising him.

"Tools." He said, putting down his paper again. She didn't quite look at him, but she also wasn't deliberately avoiding him.

"Tools for what?" She asked.

"Fixing my vortex manipulator and getting off of the planet."

She started to choke on the ice cube she was sucking on and had to cough to clear her throat. It did amuse him so to watch human reactions.

"You've got a space ship?" She asked in a scratchy voice.

"No…" He said slowly. He lifted the briefcase he had brought with him and pulled out the clunky wristband. "It's a vortex manipulator." He held it up so she could see it.

"Oh sure," She said, looking at the thing skeptically. "For…manipulating vortexes."

"It travels through space and time." He added helpfully.

"Right," She snorted. "Time travel, makes just about much sense as anything else right now."

"I am a _time_ lord." He said with his eyebrow raised. She nearly choked on her ice again.

"But I thought…maybe that was just a title. Like…Duke of York. Or…Sir Elton John." It looked more like she had been _hoping_ that was the case. "Well, why are we flying then?"

"It's broken. That's why we're _fixing_ it." She really wasn't keeping up very well. He wondered vaguely if the Doctor ever had problems like this with his _own _companions. Of course, that was silly, she wasn't a _companion_, she was just an…_inconvenience_. As soon as he figured out this whole, necklace mess, he would send her back safely home. And then he would decide if he needed to face the Doctor, _alone_.

"You know," She said, startling him out of his thoughts. "You look kind of familiar." She stared at him, in a calculating way. "You look all…political over there,"

"Did I not look political before?" He asked skeptically.

"No, you looked homeless." She shrugged.

"Homeless!" He nearly shouted, incensed. He was a master of _time and space_, he did not look _homeless_. Though, as he thought of the fate of Gallifrey, he supposed that it was technically true. And he could probably use a shave.

"That's it!" She pointed to him, a light coming on behind her eyes. "That British guy, what do they call the president over there…" She paused, thinking. "The Prime Minister! That's who you look like."

He felt his face tighten reflexively, but he tried to keep his smile casual. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, the one that went crazy and disappeared with his wife a few years back. Saxon?" She frowned. "Yeah, Harold Saxon. Because then, like a month ago. Everyone started saying they saw him again." She shrugged. "Someone must have put out a reward or something." She looked at him again. "I think he had darker hair though. He was less homeless looking too." She added with a smirk.

"Yeah, I think I've heard of him." He swallowed, looking back at his newspaper carefully. He remembered Lucy, from what seemed like so long ago. Remembered the look in her eye as she had shot him. In the end, he had deserved that. She had deserved better. Why had he never seen it that way before?

And then the last time he had seen her, she was a prisoner of his own people. The people who had given him this plane, so certain his rise to power was eminent. They didn't understand _that _man had died on Gallifrey, so far away and so many years ago. He did tremble as he reminisced, to have been all of those people, all six billion of them at once. And the drumming, it had been so loud, so _tremendous_. Like he was at the center of a hurricane, the violence buffeting him from all around. He had to close his eyes and take a deep breath to calm himself.

And then he heard it again.

_One, two, three, four…_

_One, two, three, four…_

His eyes shot open, this wasn't in his head. He was _actually_ hearing it. He searched for the source and he found it, sitting across the plane from him. Fitz's leg tapped out the beat.

"What are you doing?" He couldn't quite stop the aggressiveness in his voice. Fitz's eyes grew wide in fear as she recognized something primal and dangerous in his gaze. "Stop it!" He shouted at her.

"Stop what?"

_One, two, three, four. _

_One, two, three, four_…


	6. Chapter 6

"_She looked into my eyes and a voice said 'run'"_

"Stop it!" His voice was a frightening confirmation that he was, indeed, a _very_ dangerous man. A wolf in sheep's clothing. Did that make me a sheep? The feeling was not a cheerful one. But the throbbing in my head overwhelmed my horror; it was _killing_ me. My palms pressed against my temples, I was certain if I didn't hold it together my whole skull was going to split open. Starbursts of pain exploded against my forehead and I was left gasping.

"Fitz?" His voice was less sure, and much closer. Opening my eyes I saw he had gotten out of his chair, the anger had receded but I knew it was still there, waiting. "Are you alright?"

"Fine." I barked through gritted teeth. See I wasn't a sheep; I could be just as nasty as he could. And if the dwarf in my head ever stopped trying to pick axe its way through my brain, I'd prove it. "Head going to explode. But totally fine." Sounding annoyed was as dangerous as I could manage, but I wasn't really in the mood for talking. I was in the mood for burying my head in my hands and weeping.

"I'm sorry I shouted, it's just…" His eyes shifted back to my leg, and as best as I could describe it, his face looked _haunted_. What kind of explanation was there for that? Did he not like blue jeans? "Please," He said, closing his eyes and swallowing. "Please stop moving your leg." It looked like he was about to lose it again, but he was holding onto that tiny bit of control he had, holding onto it so he could _beg_ me to stop.

"Just shut up, will you?" I growled at him, my jaw was aching. What the hell business of his was it what I did? He brought me along, _forced_ me to come. He was just going to have to deal with the consequences. No matter how much my nervous twitch bothered him. Pretty pathetic for a _wolf_.

Although. It did seem a little odd that I was _so_ against listening to him. Cruel even, since he seemed so…desperate. When had I become so spiteful? And mean? Well, maybe I had always been that way. But even I was judging myself right then, I could see into his eyes and knew that he was deeply troubled; and I was the cause.

"Get me an aspirin…or seven." I said as diplomatically as I could. It still sounded like an order. Oh well, I tried.

"Alright." He said, dragging a hand across his mouth. "I'll be back…just…" He shook his head, staring at my leg again. But he stood up and retreated from me, tearing his gaze away. Whatever he had intended to say he didn't bother. I turned my own attention to my leg, trying to ignore the drum roll tearing through my head. It was thumping in time. One, two, three, four. Repeatedly. I honestly couldn't remember when I had started to do that, or what song I was trying to keep the beat to. Somewhere I noticed that he had returned with a bottle of pills, but I couldn't let go of my head to accept it, it just hurt _too_ much. I squinted my eyes against the pain, suddenly, it seemed _very_ important that I stop moving my leg. He pushed the bottle against my hand and I flinched away from him, even the rattle seemed like an assault.

"Fitz, I'm sorry I was angry." He paused, sounding so lost. "It's hard to explain-"

"It's not that." I gasped. Forcing my eyes open so I could look at him, make him understand. "I can't…" The fear rolled over me like a fog. "I'm not doing this." My voice was hardly more than a whisper.

"Is this a joke?" His face scowled, but I saw something flash through his eyes. He was _afraid_.

"No-" My voice was a whimper and it died in my throat. The pain slowly fell away, as though it hadn't really been the raging inferno I thought, just a passing ache. My hands glided through my hair and I felt a smile tug at my lips.

"No," I continued in a calm and low voice. One I didn't recognize as my own. "This is not a joke." The Professor recognized the change and took a step back. "What's the matter? You look like you've just seen a _ghost_." My expression had changed to one of mockery. Except, that was wrong. _My _expression, was probably matching the one of horror that was on the Professor's face. But none of my muscles seemed to be cooperating. With _me_ anyway.

"Fitz," The Professor's voice was hoarse. "What are you doing?"

_Not me!_ I screamed from the prison in my head. _Most definitely not me!_

"Fitz?" I laughed at him. "What a _silly _name." Disdain dripped from my lips.

What. An. _Asshole_.

"Truly, even in this _human_ form, you do not recognize me?" I shook my head as though I were disappointed with the Professor. "You _have_ grown soft." I was vaguely aware of a burning in my chest, it wasn't as painful as the headache had been, but it did hurt. It was the necklace, I could somehow sense it and instead of a cold stone, it was like a hot ember from the fire. Scorching against my skin I desperately wanted to tear it away. But my arms remained at my side, immobile.

"Who am I speaking to?" The Professor was very careful to keep his distance now. The stewardess came to warn us that we would be landing shortly, but he dismissed her with a curt wave and she seemed to know better than to argue.

"My my." I tsked at him chidingly. "Don't even recognize your own kind? I thought you were clever." The Professor seemed not to understand for a moment, but then he did. His eyes grew wide and his nostrils flared as he took another step back. I thought for a brief moment that he was going to run away, run away and leave me with this…this _thing_. Trapped in here. Forever. The _bastard_. Though I didn't know if I could blame him, since I knew if my legs were cooperating, I would have been trying something very similar. Sure, it wasn't likely that I'd be able to find anywhere to hide on this tiny private jet, but that didn't mean I wasn't eager to at least try.

"Ah," I laughed, a low and scornful tone. Nothing like my usual dorky chortle. I never thought I would miss the stupid sound of _that_. "You see now, I think."

"Yes. I do." He said, sounding almost frail. That wasn't encouraging at all.

"Come now." I beckoned him closer, it was a little weird watching my limbs move of their own accord, and it helped to distract from the necklace's burning. "You needn't be afraid. I have been alone for some time, and I cannot harm you." I flashed a wicked grin. "Yet."

"You're trapped then." I could tell he was trying to appear confident, but it still sounded as though he were asking.

"Yes," I frowned teasingly. "Which is really too bad, I'm sure we could have lots of fun together. Would you like that, Master?" My voice was falsely honeyed as I spoke and the Professor shivered visibly. What the hell was _that_ about? "No? That's too bad. No matter, given the time, I will be free from this _weak _shell. And I have _plenty _of time." My hands slithered up my shoulders and I smirked. "I'm sure I can find _some_ way to entertain myself."

_Hands off creeper!_ But of course, I wasn't listening. Why would I be?

"Fitz," The Professor seemed to reach a decision as he closed the distance between us. Kneeling down on the floor, he brought his head level to my own. "You have to listen to me. You _have _to fight it."

I started to laugh cruelly. "A _human_? You really think it stands a chance? I've been here for a week already and you were oblivious. You didn't even know I was here you fool!" I spat at him, the object of my scorn. The Professor reached out and took my hands, and I felt _something_. Something that wasn't the burning in my chest or the incredible fear. "What- what are you doing?" I scowled at him, and for the first time, not sounding like a completely smug asshole.

"Fitz. You can _do_ this." The Professor promised as he searched my eyes. "Try to stop shaking your leg."

"Stop it." I hissed, trying to pull my hands out of his, but his grip was determined. "She's not here. She's already dead." I scoffed at him, but that certainty was feeble. Despite that, the Professor flinched; I could see it in his eyes. For that second, he doubted, he _believed_ that I was dead.

Hell to the _no. _I was angry. I didn't want to deal with any more of this alien _bullshit_. I wanted my normal boring life back, I wanted the old vanilla smell of the books, I wanted to see my cat, and I wanted it NOW. I wasn't about to let the Professor give up on me and completely screw me over to live the rest of my days as a crazy voice in my head. I didn't really know what I was doing, but it felt like I was rushing the gates. Gathering my incorporeal strength, I threw myself against whatever invisible cage was holding me trapped in my own body.

"Keep trying." The Professor whispered, I could see the optimism fading. No. Absolutely not. This was all _his _fault, and he was going to damn well know it. If I got out of this mess, I was going to punch him right in his stupid alien face. And that rage must have flickered across my face, for just a moment. Because he saw it, saw my sheer determination to make him suffer flash in my eyes. "Yes, that's it!" He grinned, his hopeless face transformed.

"She'll fail!" I shouted in a panicked voice. That gave me just enough irritation to throw everything I had into stopping that leg. It resisted me every step of the way, tugging like a thick molasses, but I pushed on, determined to break through.

But it was right, I couldn't stop my leg. I could hardly move at all, a twitch here, a tightening muscle there. I was still trapped, still stupidly trapped. All I could really feel was that burning, like I was being branded for eternity. The necklace.

"Necklace…" I whispered, it took all of my reserves just to get my tongue to cooperate for that one word, to get my lungs to breathe out. "Necklace-" I tried again, putting so much effort into it that it felt like I must be screaming, but it only came out ragged and weak. I was slipping back, like the sand with the tide it was pulling me under again. I had tried so hard, but I had _failed_.

"Necklace?" The Professor shook his head, clutching my hands tighter as though he could sense me fading again. He didn't understand, my efforts had been in vain. "Necklace!" He shouted, understanding spread across his face. He released my hands and I felt myself fully trapped again, just a voice in my head. He reached for my throat and pulled at the thin cord.

"Can you hear the drumming?" I grinned even as I was thrown forward with the force of the Professors strength. My chest seared with pain as it pulled away from me. I was able to open my mouth to scream with my face pressed into the carpet. I was just aware enough to realize it was _me_ screaming. I screamed until my lungs were empty and then I gasped for air, as though I had been holding my breath. Pushing myself up to my hands and knees was a relief when I could do it, but I was still coughing and choking as if I had been held underwater.

"It's okay." The Professor crouched with me, helping to hold me steady by my shoulders. "It's okay. You're alright."

"_Alright_?" My breathing was finally under control enough that I could spare the effort to shout at him. "What the _hell_ just happened? And why am I _always_ asking that?" My hand pressed against my chest, I was sure the skin was blistered and raw, but there was nothing. Staring down, the necklace was still there, cool to the touch, but my skin was just as pale as it had ever been. I wrenched at the thread with all of my strength, trying to rip it away from me. I successfully gave myself a mild case of whiplash; the necklace was still firmly attached.

"Get it off!" Panic was what I was feeling right then. Lots and lots of it. I spun it around, searching for the clasp, but I couldn't find it. It just wasn't there. I knew it had been this morning when I had put it on, where the _hell_ had it gone? "Get it off of me!" I tried to yank it up over my head.

"Stop, Fitz-" I popped him in the face with my elbow as I was trying to pull it up. There wasn't a lot of time for apologies since I realized that the thing seemed to be shrinking as I tugged on it. "Fitz! Calm down!" He shouted so loudly he startled me to stillness. My fingers were still clasped around the strand, but he had effectively pinned my arms to his chest to cease my struggling. "You have to stop." He said in a calmer tone. I felt that _something_ again and I recognized that he had made it happen. It was worming its way into my brain, some _alien_ mental trick to sooth me.

"Knock it off." I said in a tone that even scared me a little. Apparently, I was taking lessons from my crazy counterpart. He looked surprised but I felt him retract, though he didn't let go of my arms. Taking a few breaths to regain my composure I let the necklace drop from my fingers. "Why won't it come off?" I asked in what I hoped was a placating tone. He still looked a bit wary of me biting his head off.

"I'm not sure if I completely understand-"

"What's your best guess?" I snapped. So much for that calming inner Zen. Hell, I was just impressed I wasn't still screaming. I deserved some kind of award. At the very least a gold star.

He shrugged, as well as he could while still gripping my arms. "I think it's a part of you. It won't be so simple as removing it." He nodded to where he still had my hands. "Are you going to be alright?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No," I said snidely. "But you can let go anyway." Pulling the necklace up gently I realized that it had grown back to its original size, hanging loosely around my neck. I made sure to place it outside of my shirt. "Can't we cut it off? It can't be indestructible, right?"

"Well," He said with a sigh, pushing himself up from the floor. "If we succeeded. I think we might end up killing you." I stared up at him for a heartbeat and ignored his outstretched hand to assist me.

"Thanks for the good news." I grumbled, crawling back to my seat. It was easy enough to sit, but as my stomach fluttered with the drop in altitude, I realized I needed to lock my seatbelt. Which my hands were shaking too badly to do.

"Good news is my specialty." He said with a grim smile, snapping the belt shut for me without needing to ask. Crap, he was being nice. I didn't think I could sustain my sullen mood if he was going to pull that kind of nonsense.

"Sorry for elbowing you." I said grudgingly. There, that made us even. Besides, I had promised myself I was going to punch him in the face. He deserved it. Another gold star for the lady.

"No problem." He returned to his own seat. "Fitz," I looked up, expecting to see his tired annoyance, but instead there was something else. Something earnest. "I'm going to figure this out, I promise." There was no reason to, but I believed him. Or at least, believed he meant it sincerely. And that gave me the faintest of hopes, which was all I really had. The plane started to drop more deliberately then, my stomach jumping back into my throat. I tightened my grip on the armrest, landings were always the worst. Nothing I liked better than crashing and exploding into a fiery death. That was only slightly higher on my list of 'things to freak out about' than being possessed again.

"What was it?" I forced myself to talk, but I had to shut the window, I couldn't watch the skyline surge up toward us. "What was in my head?" He didn't answer for a long time, so long that I thought maybe he hadn't heard me ask. But I was too focused on staring at the back of the chair in front of me and driving my fingernails into the leather to bother repeating myself.

"It's a time lord." He finally said. That did make me forget the somersault's my stomach was performing as we dropped another thousand feet. Briefly.

"Like you?" I asked him.

"Yes." He nodded.

"And…that's bad?" Of course it was bad. It had been a real shitty experience so far. Probably in my top five. But didn't extraterrestrial species have some sort of agreement? Wasn't there some resolution they could come to? I found most disputes could be resolved with a heavy night of drinking.

"It's very bad." He said quietly.

"Oh." I went ahead and translated that to mean that I was doomed. Horribly and irreversibly doomed. _Great_.

"Fitz," He caught my attention one more time, he looked so old, and _so_ tired. "I wouldn't tap out that rhythm. If you can help it."

"Okay." I swallowed, trying not to think about how dry my mouth was. 'If you can help it' seemed like he was saying it was inevitable. That was not a comforting thought at all. It almost seemed like those were the only kind of thoughts I was ever going to have again. I spent the remainder of the flight staring down at my legs, willing them to be still.


	7. Chapter 7

_"I've built walls, a fortress deep and mighty, that none may penetrate. I have no need of friendship, Friendship causes pain."_

It hadn't really been much of a challenge to find their way into Torchwood, of course, very little _was_ challenging to him. Besides, they weren't anywhere too secret, just an old scrap yard. In the basement of an abandoned warehouse, they had piled junk that held no current use to the institute. They probably wouldn't even know what had gone missing. He had to admit, he was enjoying himself, working through the useless lack of organization to find the pieces he needed. He was quite good at using minimal supplies to make what he needed; he had always been rather resourceful. He might just find enough here to make himself a sonic device. Something they would need if he planned to make a habit of breaking into buildings.

"Will this work?" Fitz reappeared around the corner. He had sent her on a mission to rummage through the old cartons of fission batteries, and he was surprised to see she had done rather well. For a human.

"Nicely done." He commented without looking up from his work. "It's nice to know you're not _completely_ useless." If she was hurt by his dismissal, she hardly showed it. In fact, she didn't seem to be showing much emotion at all after the incident on the plane. Just a snide cynicism that he had to assume was a mask. Whatever it was, it was holding nicely, and preferable to her panicking. Then she really _would_ be useless.

"Oh yeah. I got full marks in 'not useless', you can ask my mom." She raised her eyebrow over her glasses as she dumped the batteries on his table and he allowed himself a smirk. He wondered if it was just too much for a human mind to deal with, the thought of something else invading its body. He wondered if perhaps she had blocked it all out. But when he glanced up, he could see that she hadn't, not really. It was there, just below the surface. A distant look, a hand nervously fiddling with her hair. She knew it, and she was afraid. She was just refusing to acknowledge it.

He couldn't blame her, if he had been able to ignore the drums, for just one moment, just _once_, he was sure he would have. But it wouldn't have mattered, because once his control faltered, they would have returned. Just like the time lord that was residing inside of her. And the moment she lost control, well, he didn't want to think about that just yet. He didn't _like_ to think about that, especially since it was inevitable. What he also didn't like, was his own level of concern about it.

A time lord was unlikely to survive long in a human body, once unleashed it would burn through her like a virus. What did it matter to him? Perhaps it would come after him, but that was unlikely, and he doubted there was any real plan. The attack on Fitz reeked of a bumbling improvisation. The necklace had been a prison, one that had come to Fitz by mere coincidence. And him finding the signal, that was mere chance.

Perhaps there _was_ such a thing as too many coincidences.

But why should he _care_?

It was no skin off his back, another dead human. Maybe another dead time lord. And yet.

He swallowed, as his hands continued to work, paying little attention to his musings. Engineering had always been child's play to him. Somewhere there was a creeping suspicion that he didn't want her dead. That he really did want to help her. Was it because she had saved him? Was his sentiment as simple as that, that he felt like he owed it to her? It didn't matter; it was an annoyance, and a hindrance. He disregarded it. Something to be sorted out later, after he had gotten this bloody manipulator repaired.

"So where is it taking us?" She finally asked, tossing the used gloves into a nearby bin. Her hair briefly fell forward into the light that he had directed on the table and the soldering iron slipped from his hands. He shooed her away irritably. The pieces within were delicate and tiny, and while his hands knew what they were doing, they could hardly be expected to succeed if he couldn't see the stubborn thing. She stepped back obligingly, but he caught her rolling her eyes.

"I can program it to wherever and _whenever_ I like."

"Oh, well, aren't we the impressive mechanic with his shiny toys." Her tone of mocking was not lost on him.

"I might just take you to the end of the universe so you'll shut up." He said mildly.

"Then who would stand around and be impressed with you?" She snorted. "And that's quite a bold statement for a man who had to board a plane to fly over one _measly_ ocean."

"You're right. The end of universe probably _wouldn't_ shut you up." He shuffled through the bin of scraps he had carefully collected earlier. He realized, a little belatedly, that he was still smiling. She was lingering nearby, distracted by something, _being_ distracting.

"Probably not. But I mean…" Her voice trailed off. He recognized that he had ceased actual work on the machinery. Instead, he was making it to _look _like he was still working. But he was watching her carefully from the corner of his eye. "Do you know where we _will_ go? Do you know what-" He saw it then, her mask slipping, revealing the fear that was eating away at her. She took a deep breath. "Is there some place I can get better?" She finally forced herself to ask. He very intently avoided her gaze then, it wouldn't do them any good for her to see _just_ how unsure he was. And right then he didn't entirely trust himself, or his ability to lie convincingly.

"Yes." His answer was partly invented. Well, mostly. But it was what she needed to hear. "I will have to ask around a bit. This isn't something I've dealt with, personally." In fact, it was more likely that he should be the one setting diabolical voices upon people, not the other way around.

"Super." Her voice sounded shaky and he glanced at her. She was staring resolutely at her limbs, chewing her lip.

"Fitz." He put down his tools and waited for her to look up. She finally did and the mask was back in place, only a hint of her concerns flickered in her yes. "It's going to be okay." He promised her, whether that was a lie, he couldn't be sure. But he meant it sincerely. "I'm going to help you." Again, words he was unsure of their true meaning. When had he ever really helped someone? Someone from who he had nothing to gain? He was brilliant, but he was so used to taking that it seemed like second nature to him. Already he wondered the benefits of an imprisoned time lord. Could he trust himself to remember that he had promised to help Fitz?

The only man he thought he could trust with that, and himself, was the one man he _knew _he couldn't bring her to. The man who had ended the time lords. Because in this rare case, he thought the Doctor would be just as capable of screwing her up as he would. That was somewhat disconcerting, and reassuring, at the same time.

"Sure," She smiled. "I bet you say that to all the girls."

"Just the ones possessed by time lords." He grinned, returning to his work. The sense of foreboding had passed and she was calmed, if only temporarily.

"Anything else I can be looking for?" She asked, clearly hoping that staying busy would also keep away her feeling of helplessness. He had all the pieces for the vortex manipulator at hand, but if he planned to make himself a sonic device, he would need more supplies. He grabbed a nearby scrap of paper and started to sketch out the general pieces he knew he was looking for, knowing that things like 'frequency replicators' and 'reverberating ion beam' would mean little to a book seller. He worked carefully, trying to be as detailed as possible; it wouldn't do him much good if she returned with the kind of rubbish pieces that would just make a screwdriver with a pen light. That had very limited uses. Such as making cabinets in the dark. Badly.

"Jesus!" She exclaimed as he handed it over.

"Is it badly smudged?" He frowned, hoping he hadn't just wasted ten minutes of his time when he could be nearly finished with the manipulator.

"Are you kidding?" She looked at him incredulously. "Where did you learn to draw like this? It's…amazing."

"Oh," He smirked, a little flattered despite himself. "My mother taught me. Used to spend a lot of my time as a boy sketching." It was hard to remember that far back, before the untempered schism, before the drumming, and the war. "Father thought it was a waste." He smiled, remembering the man's stern face, scowling at him after he had returned from an afternoon spent in the red fields.

"Your father was an idiot." She shook her head, staring at the drawings. "Why aren't you an artist or something?"

"Because I was a warrior." He said flatly. She snorted aloud and he shot her a look.

"Sorry. You just don't seem…the type." She shrugged, doing her best to look guilty.

"You have no idea." He felt that cold sneer pull at his lips and she seemed to recognize it. Recognize that danger, that darkness within him. The mocking grin slipped from her face and she returned her attention to the drawings.

"So you couldn't be a warrior and an artist?"

"My father was right. My world was torn apart by war. There's nothing left of it." The reality of it sunk in a little deeper as he finally said it. She stood there silently for a moment, regarding him in the quiet.

"I'm sorry." She said. He saw the sympathy in her eyes and turned away from it.

"Don't be." He said curtly. "Think you can find those for me?" He didn't need her pity, or her concern. She couldn't possibly understand.

"Sure." She said, a little more brightly than necessary. "Captain Not-totally-useless is on the job." She set off down the aisles that organized the concrete bunker with a false smile. He returned to his work, but still he was distracted. He had never had this trouble with the drumming. There had been no room for meandering thoughts, only the constant assault of the tempo. He wondered a little if he didn't miss it, didn't miss the simplicity of the life he had. With the silence, all of these thoughts came back to him, crowding into his mind. Unwanted memories of a lost childhood, a lost home. It probably had to do with Fitz too, so _sentimental_, these humans. Probably why the Doctor kept his pesky human pets around. He wanted that, _enjoyed _it; the remembrance of times gone by. Companions were more trouble than they were worth. In fact, that's exactly what was happening right now. Fitz was nothing _but_ trouble, from the moment he had met her. A ticking time bomb of trouble. Now he was so deep in it, he felt obligated to help. When it had started merely as a point of curiosity. _That_ was the problem with companions.

Of course, that's not to say she even _was _a companion. She was just a…a mere inconvenience. Though it was strangely comforting not to be traveling completely alone. He supposed that was why he had brought her along in the first place. He could have found her somewhere to hide, somewhere safe, and he hadn't. It had been a strange impulse. And it was alarming that he began to suspect that he didn't know himself as well as he'd thought he had.

"What's that noise?" Fitz stared down the long hallway that led to the door where they had broken in. The hallway itself was unlit, but the room beyond glowed with several fluorescent lights. She carried a small plastic bin, filled with the items she had found. He hadn't heard anything strange, but then, he hadn't really been paying attention.

"What noise-" He froze, he heard it. It was a low whooshing sound, but it was gaining in volume. Like an old wheezing accordion. It was coming from somewhere past the brightly lit room. And he had the feeling that he knew _exactly_ who it was.

"Get under the table." He commanded her, leaving his work unfinished on the desk. If he could get within, he might not have to fix that useless thing after all. But that all depended on her staying hidden, staying _safe_. She watched him with some alarm, placing the bin on the table. "Stay out of sight." He warned her.

"What is it?" She asked, reluctantly stooping to crawl below the heavy workbench.

"An old friend." He said with a bitter smile. "Don't worry, I've got a plan."


	8. Chapter 8

"_No I can't slow down, I can't hold back, though you know I wish I could."_

After I had managed to get myself under the table, the Professor had knocked down a few of the boxes nearby, blocking most of my view of the hall. And then he had started to walk _toward_ the noise we had heard. You know, the one he wanted me hidden from? Just like a lunatic. _Great_.

The noise ceased as he was halfway down the hall and a door swung open somewhere. I was definitely afraid, but then, I was afraid _all_ the time now, so it was really losing that gut wrenching effect.

Awesome.

Peering through the boxes as best as I could, I could just see the Professor's back as he walked down the dark hallway, completely unarmed. What the _hell _kind of plan was that?

"Thought you might be interested in investigating before we went in." A voice could be heard somewhere in the distance. "We're pretty sure it's time lord technology." An American? In Cardiff? Was that unusual? I tried to gather all of the information I had ever learned about Cardiff and realized…I had none. Great. So much for that 'not totally useless' badge.

"Yes, I imagine so." I heard a low mechanical whistling accompanying that voice. British again. "I appreciate the call captain." If he knew about time lords, and he was British, or at least, _sounded_ British, did that make him the Professor's 'old friend'? Of course, the way the Professor had said it reminded me of the way I might refer to my dishwasher as an 'old friend'. That was, not a friend at all. Especially if I was taking a shower and Lucas decided to do a load at the same time. Oh, the octaves I reached when I screamed like that. I could shatter glass.

And I was getting _way_ off topic.

"I'm sure it's nothing. But we were in the neighborhood, so thought we'd check it out anyway."

"We?" The captain asked.

"Yeah, 'we' ya big oaf. Have you tried leaving this man on his own? He's a right nutter." A woman's voice joined the fray. A bit of an attitude from the sounds of it, I liked her already. Despite her British-ness.

"Donna!" The captain sounded surprised. "I wondered if you'd turn up at some point. Kind of left me hanging there."

"Yeah, sorry bout that." It sounded like she had forgotten to call after a one-night stand. "Got a little tied up. Time lord business and all that."

"It's alright, at this point I'm use to it-" And then they all stopped talking at once, and I could see why. They had come to the lit room and could finally see down the hallway where the Professor stood.

"Hello Doctor." He spoke the name like it was a veiled threat. I could just see them now; a tall man with floppy brown hair seemed the most affected by the Professor's appearance, his chin jutting out as though he were thinking of how to respond. He wore a tweed jacket, red suspenders…and a bowtie? Seriously? I hoped for his own sake, 'principal dork', as I had dubbed him, wasn't as lame as he dressed. Maybe he was one of those retro hipsters. The captain was wearing some sort of dark blue military jacket. And I couldn't quite see the woman, save for her dark hair.

"Master." The Doctor was the only one who spoke and he didn't look too happy to see the Professor. Who calls someone 'master'? Was he some sort of…student of his? Of what exactly? If this was about more alien nonsense, I was going to scream. "Jack, have you got any handcuffs on you?"

Who was I kidding? Of course it was alien nonsense. _Everything_ had been alien nonsense since I had met the Professor. I was halfway up alien-shit creek and I had no paddle, in fact, I didn't even have a boat. I was drowning in that stupid creek. As soon as I got back home, _if _I ever got home, I was going straight to congress and recommending we put up a giant brick wall around our atmosphere, sunshine be damned.

"Always, Doctor." Captain Jack stepped forward with a grim look; apparently, he wasn't excited to see the Professor either. "Do you mind?" He asked the Professor as he stepped forward.

"Not at all. I didn't realize Torchwood was so _hostile_." The Professor said with a smirk as Jack yanked his arms behind his back and snapped the cuffs shut around his wrists. What part of the plan was that? Get your stupid ass tied up? As far as plans went, I had seen better.

"You broke into the warehouse. You're lucky we didn't just shoot you." Jack shoved him forward into the lit room and brought him to a crate in the center where he sat the Professor down roughly.

"It's not as though it was very hard." The Professor sneered at Jack as the rest of them stood in a circle around him, their backs were to me. Maybe, his plan was just to be a little shit, or _maybe_ his plan was to get their attention focused elsewhere so that they couldn't see me sneaking about…

"Well good luck breaking back out." Jack didn't really seem amused.

"Why are you here?" The Doctor didn't seem overly bothered by the Professor's additude, but he _was_ very serious. Which was making me wonder about his bow tie decision.

"Just trying to make my way. Doctor." He said with a smile. "_Someone_ went and broke my vortex manipulator." His tone suggested that that 'someone' was standing right in front of him. The Doctor sighed and crossed his arms over his chest, his hunched shoulders made him look more exhausted than angry.

"Why didn't you come find me?"

"What," The Professor nodded to the woman who still stood just a bit out of my line of sight. "So I could be your _pet_?" He spat the words at him and that seemed to strike a chord. I crept out from under the table and started to crawl, as quietly and ungracefully as I could, down the hallway.

"Pet?" The woman shouted, coming into view a little better now, she was wearing a pantsuit and had her hands on her hips. "I'll have you! You hear me? I'll have you!" The Professor grinned at her cheerfully as the Doctor turned and grabbed her shoulders.

"Donna, Donna. It's alright." He said in a soothing tone, for one brief instant his eyes traveled down the hallway and I threw myself flat behind some scattered trash.

"But he said-"

"Yes, I know. He's rude. We're just going to have to rise above it, yeah?" He asked and she sighed in an irritated way.

"Oh alright," I saw her throw her arms up over her head as I snaked around the boxes to see if they had turned away yet. She pointed directly at the Professor, warningly. "But don't think this is over."

"Oh, did daddy pull the leash too tight?" The Professor's face was mocking and I was surprised the woman didn't take a swing at him.

"Donna, maybe the TARDIS would be the best place for you." The Doctor held out a warning hand, standing between the Professor and the woman who wanted so desperately to kill him.

"Fine." The word sounded like it had come through gritted teeth. She spun on her heel and disappeared from view completely. The Doctor returned his attention to where the Professor sat and I heard a door slam somewhere else.

I ducked between another set of boxes. This was just like a video game, dodging barrels as I made my way up to save the princess. Except the barrels were people in this instance, bad people, and if I got caught, well…I just better not _get_ caught. I wasn't sure what my plan was when I got to the halfway point, when there weren't any more boxes to hide behind, but then I wasn't much of a planner; I was more of a 'winger'.

"Would it be so bad? Traveling with me?" The Doctor asked softly, he sounded…well, he sounded _sad_. The Professor hesitated, he was hiding something, I could see it. Of course, who knew what the hell it _was._ And then he saw me, my head just visible in the low light. His face tensed and he ever so slightly jerked his head to the side. There was a fury in his eyes that I could only interpret as 'what the bloody hell are you doing, I told you to stay under the table'. He had a real knack for silent communication. Before I could do much of anything, the man in front of him started to turn to follow the Professor's gaze. My blood froze, but I had just enough sense to duck back down.

_Shit_. This was bad. Remember the barrels? Remember that stupid gorilla laughing his ass off whenever he smashed my guts out? Remember how I had to get my friends to beat that level for me because I couldn't manage it most of the time? I should have, because this had been a _really_ stupid idea.

"What's back there?" He asked curiously, his voice was louder, like he had turned around completely. I could hear his steps as he moved down the hallway slowly. I focused on shrinking as tiny as I could. Would I blend in back here? It was dark, maybe I'd look just like the rest of the useless junk lain about. Which, to be fair, would be totally accurate.

"Just the manipulator." The Professor said in a much calmer tone than I would be capable of. In fact, I probably would have started my sentence with 'don't go down there!', so it was probably best that I hadn't been captured. But it didn't seem to persuade the Doctor, who continued walking down the hall; I saw his shoe, and then his chin. If I was ever going to die of a heart attack, now would be the time.

"And yes. It would be that bad." The Professor spoke up; I could almost hear alarm in his voice now. I stared up at the Doctor like a deer in the headlights; his eyes were still searching out in the gloom, trying to spot something he might have missed. But they fell to the ground as he heard the Professor and he spoke over his shoulder. His opposite shoulder to me, thank god for small favors.

"Why?" He asked painfully in the darkness of the hall.

"Because you destroyed it. You destroyed my _home_." The Professor's voice had an edge to it. Oh, an old war buddy, _that _was the old friend he was talking about. I let out a _very_ quiet breath as I realized he was turning back down the hall, he was leaving. Clearly, the Professor had struck a nerve, good on him.

"And I'm so sorry. More sorry than you can imagine." His voice was still calm, but it seemed somehow broken. A pang of sympathy reverberated in my chest, but I pushed it away quickly. I'm sure there were lots of homicidal maniacs who had moments of regrets. It didn't mean I needed to feel bad for them.

"I'm sure you're sorry for a lot of things." The Professor shrugged from where he sat. I had finally dared to look over the boxes again; the Doctor was just holding his chin thoughtfully.

"We'll take him with us." He spoke to Jack after a moment.

"You sure? There's always an open cell for his kind at Torchwood." Jack sneered at the Professor who just rolled his eyes.

"Yes." The Doctor snapped. "I'm quite sure." I thought, perhaps, that was the first time I had seen him verging on something close to anger. Jack just shrugged it off though. "Help me get him into the TARDIS will you?" Jack hauled up the Professor, none too gently, and started to march him out of view.

That's when I started to panic a little. Take him where? What the hell is a TARDIS? Whatever it was, I had serious doubts I was going to be able to get him out of it. A one-woman rescue operation I was not. I needed to stop them _now_ if I had any chance at all. I felt through the boxes nearest me, looking for something, _anything_ that might help. I found an object that had some heft to it; a short length of pipe should do the trick.

It took quite a bit of effort, and self-badgering, but I managed to stand. Everyone had shifted out of view so they wouldn't see me right away, but it was the rest of the plan I was having trouble gathering courage for. I was certain one of them would pop their head back down the hall and spot me. Probably causing me to freeze where I stood. Yeah, that would be pretty typical for me. I strode forward, determined not to chicken out. When I finally reached the end of the hall, Jack was nearly out of the room, hauling the Professor with him, the Doctor a few paces behind him. I picked up speed and swatted at the Doctor's head with the pipe so hard that I lost my grip on it. Oops. The Doctor still collapsed in a heap, so, mission accomplished, but I had yet to deal with Jack, who was turning at the commotion.

"Doc-" He looked more than a little surprised to see me there as I advanced on him. I grabbed the Professor's shoulder and gripped tightly as I lifted my leg and kicked as hard as I could. Jack flew backwards with a satisfying 'oof'. Moving like the crafty ninja I believed myself to be, I slammed the door shut behind him and was grateful to see there was a bolt to keep it locked. Something that probably would have been better to have planned out, but hey, I was new at this.

"What the hell are you doing?" The Professor was scowling when I finally turned my attention back to him.

"No, it's totally fine." I said irritably. "Just saved your ass. For the _second_ time. No trouble at all!" I threw my hands up in the air, disgusted with him. He was not _nearly_ as impressed as he should have been. Hell, _I _was still impressed.

"I was going-"

"Oh shut up," I interrupted him by shoving him face first into the door. As satisfying as it would have been; I restrained myself just enough so his head didn't bounce against it. "You're completely ruining this for me." I kept my elbow in his back while I retrieved a bobby pin from my hair.

"What the bloody-" I ignored him and continued to twist the pin in the lock until I heard a satisfying snap from the one cuff, and then the other. I grabbed them and removed my elbow from his back, allowing him to turn around. He had a curious look on his face now, almost, just _almost_ impressed. "Where did you learn to do that?" He asked as he rubbed his wrists.

"Had a little brother who used to like magic." I chucked the mostly useless pin to the floor, so much for keeping the hair from my face. "Didn't really like remembering where he put the keys."

"Thought maybe an old boyfriend had taught you." He said with a smirk. I felt my face reddening as he ruined my perfect moment of triumph.

"You _would_. Don't you have a vortex manipulator to be fixing? You know, _before_ they come crashing in through that door?"

"I suppose I do _now._" He scowled at the memory. "But I could have had a _TARDIS_." He shot me a look.

"What's a TARDIS?" _Apparently,_ mister snooty pants thought it was better than a vortex manipulator.

"It's a giant _functioning_ vortex manipulator." Ah, okay. Then apparently it was _much_ better than what we had. Oops again.

"Well how was I supposed to know that?" I snapped back at him, not to be outdone.

"You weren't. What you were _supposed_ to do, was stay under the table. Where I _told_ you to." He sighed and dragged his hands through his hair. "I told you I had a plan." The annoyance passed through him and he regarded me for a moment. "I'm sorry." He said finally. "I know you were just trying to help."

That surprised me a little. And I almost had friendly feelings toward him until he opened his mouth again.

"But next time, don't." His eyes drifted to the door where I had barricaded Jack. "We won't get past him now that he knows we're here. I should be able to get at least the spatial configurations set, jumping through time can wait until we've lost them." He pointed to the man who was still out cold on the floor. "Cuff him, and watch the door. It'll only be a few more minutes." He told me before ducking back down the hall.

So I was stuck dragging the sprawled gangly man over to the wall where it looked like I could link his arms around some pipe. The loud booming on the opposite side of the door startled me as I was tightening the cuffs, but I was glad to see the door was still standing.

"Fitz?" The Professor's voice called faintly from the hall.

"It's fine," I shouted back. "Though I wouldn't hate it if you hurried it up."

"Yes dear."

I rolled my eyes; I could tell he was wearing that snide smirk, even if I couldn't see it. What a _brat._

"Hello." A quiet voice said, uncomfortably close. I nearly stumbled back as I realized the man I had just chained to the pipes had woken up. I say nearly, because as I jerked back, I realized he had some kind of death grip on my wrist. I wanted to scream, but I found my mouth had gone completely dry. "Shh." He smiled. "It's alright. I'm the Doctor."

"Doctor who?" I managed to ask, as my eyes drifted across the floor, searching for the pipe that I knew had rolled around here somewhere. Not, of course, anywhere conveniently close so that it might be of use to me. But, oh well.

"Just the Doctor. What's your name?" He asked in the kindly way a police officer might ask a lost child. It was off putting, to say the least.

"Fitz." I answered, because there didn't seem to be any real reason not to. "Don't any of you have _normal_ names?" I was about ready to decree myself the 'Millionaire' just to see if it had any chance of working.

"It's nice to meet you Fitz." Oddly enough, he didn't even blink at my own strange name. "And to be fair, it is normal, for my people."

"You and the Professor are the same kind of…alien?" I frowned at him. That I hadn't been really expecting, and with the third time lord ready to pop out of my head at any moment, I was sure they could all have a fun party without me.

"The Professor?" It was his turn to look confused now. "Why do you call him that?"

"Because that's his name?" I rolled my eyes and him and tried to twist from his grip again, he seemed rather unthreatening, trapped against the pipe, despite having me stuck there with him. But I was still caught.

"Alright, well, I just need you to stay calm. Jack will be coming along shortly, and then we can get this all sorted out, okay?"

"I'd stay calmer if you'd let me go." I suggested casually. He smirked briefly, but it didn't look like he agreed. The door slammed loudly again and I shot it a look, still holding steady. I glanced hopefully down the hall, maybe the Professor had finished up and we would be leaving shortly. No such luck.

"Just, don't let him take you anywhere." The Doctor warned me, tugging on my wrist to get my attention again. I considered calling for help, but I didn't seem to be in any _real_ immediate danger, and the sooner he got the manipulator fixed, the sooner we could get out of here. "Do you understand? I don't know what he's up to, or why he's got you involved. But you have to _trust_ me. Don't go with him."

"What _are_ you talking about?" I scowled at him, not really in the mood for more cryptic bullshit.

"He's dangerous, Fitz. _Incredibly_ dangerous." His eyes couldn't have _been_ more serious when he said that, and I believed him. I had seen that streak in the Professor a couple times now, but then, who wasn't dangerous?

"Yeah, so are cars." I muttered at him. "Who do you think you're talking about anyway?" It sounded like he was describing Godzilla, not some guy with a bit of a temper.

"The Master." I felt my own humor melting away. He had called them that when they first met, but that wasn't his _name_, was it? He was the Professor. Maybe it was just code, for something…really screwed up.

"I don't know who that is." I said, finally yanking my hand out of his grip and taking a hurried step back.

"Please," He urged, rising against his restraints. "That man in there, whoever he says he is. He's incredibly unstable. You _can't_ trust him." He was begging me to listen, and he looked so desperate. It was really starting to ruin my calm.

"Doctor!" Jack's voice was a little muffled beyond the door, but he was clearly shouting. "Got the torch!"

"Listen!" He was leaning over his hands, trying to go for his pockets it looked like, while still attempting to keep an eye on me. I took another step back. "I can help you."

"Professor!" I called over my shoulder, I already _had_ help, and it was almost more than I could deal with. I didn't need _another_ pile of troubles. "I think they're about to-" But I didn't get to finish, my eardrums nearly ruptured as the door flew off its hinges, dropping to the floor just short of my feet. My hands flew to my ears, uselessly late. The doorway was steaming for a moment, but as that cleared, I caught sight of Jack standing triumphantly on the other side, a rifle at his shoulder.

"Hello there," He grinned dashingly. "Nice legs." He added as he winked at me and aimed the rifle in my direction. Was he _flirting_ with me? At the same time he was going to take a shot at me? What was _wrong_ with these people?

"No shooting!" The Doctor shouted as he realized what Jack was about to do, but it was too late. I heard the crack of the firearm a second before I felt it thump into my shoulder. The winking grinning idiot had _shot_ me. Who does that?

"Fitz?" I heard the Professor's voice from the hallway as I let the impact topple me to the floor. It didn't hurt until my shoulder connected with the ground, and then I screamed. "Fitz!" His voice was louder now, angry even. Fire erupted in my shoulder and I couldn't be bothered to think any more. It rippled outward and I tried to roll on to my side to keep it from touching the ground, to keep it from touching _anything_.

I gasped as I clenched my teeth together, every beat of my heart ignited the pain further, but I wasn't going to cry, this hurt _too_ much to cry. I felt like I should scream again, but I couldn't find the breath to do it. The Professor was suddenly next to me, he had that predatory look again, and _boy_, I had thought it was scary before. I had been _wrong_. But it wasn't directed at me, it was _very _focused on Jack. Along with the pistol he held in his hands. He was a regular danger Dan. Suck on that Doctor.

"Where did you get a gun?" I managed to mutter as he reached beneath my shoulder, lifting me up to his lap. Jack dropped the rifle and put his hands up in the air, signaling he was giving up. You know, _after_ he shot me.

"Master!" The Doctor shouted and the Professor snapped his attention toward the man still cuffed to the wall. "You don't have to do this!" He was nearly spitting, looking desperate.

"You should keep your pets on a shorter leash." The Professor snarled at him, but he dropped the gun and brought his wrist around so he could tap the manipulator with the hand he had wrapped around my shoulders.

And then we vanished. My stomach felt like it had dropped through an elevator. One minute we were sitting on the hard concrete floor, and the next I could see the blue sky above us. And I was pretty sure one of my hands was lying in grass. The Professor was holding tight to me, still looking like a mad dog.

"You look scary." The words just kind of tumbled from my mouth. Not my most tactful moment. He looked down and his face softened, only slightly though.

"Stupid _cowboy_." He muttered, laying me back and looking at my shoulder.

"I like cowboys. They go yeeee-hAUGH!" I screamed as he plucked at something in my shoulder, it felt like a white-hot poker had shoved into my arm.

"Sorry!" The fury vanished and was replaced with panic. I must have screamed _really_ loud. "Sorry, must have struck bone. It's just a dart." The sharp pain had momentarily sobered me, just enough so I could glare at him. He held a small tube with a needle at the end of it. "Are you alright?"

"Alright? That jerk shot me!" I said indignantly, although my words had started to slur together. "Why'd they-oh, that cloud looks like a butterfly!" I knew that this wasn't a coherent line of thought, or at least, I thought I knew. It didn't really seem to bother me though. I did notice the pain in my arm was starting to fade, so that was nice.

The Professor frowned down at me and tasted the end of the needle. The needle that had been in my arm.

"That's gross!" It was really _really_ important I tell him that. "What if I have… diseases?" I had almost forgotten the word diseases, or maybe I was going to say 'cooties' and thought that sounded stupid. Either way, probably a bad sign.

"You've been shot with a tranquilizer. And since it's from Torchwood, I'd guess there's a bio tracker in it."

"A tranq? I feel fiiiiiine." I drawled.

"Fitz, listen to me." He sighed. "They're going to find us. But you have to remember, _don't_ tell them about the necklace."

"Find us?" The idea sounded ridiculous. We were out in the sunshine, on the _grass_. How would they know to look here? "Just hit that magic button again. Here, I'll do it. I like buttons. Ask _anyone_." I moved my arm to strike the vortex manipulator but he yanked his wrist out of my reach, and I got a sharp and painful reminder that I had just been _shot_. Damn, he was a crafty one.

"Can't do that." He smirked at my feeble efforts. "You'll get sick. Besides, we won't go far. I didn't have time to finish it. You were busy getting yourself shot."

"It wasn't part of the plan." I shoved myself up on my good elbow, it felt like my head was disconnected somewhere between my shoulders and the…brain part. "Anyway, you've never seen a girl throw up?"

"You sure are a charmer." He rolled his eyes and I did my best 'charming' smile. Which I'm pretty sure just meant I stuck my tongue out at him. And then became _fascinated _at how pink it was. "Fitz." He grabbed my chin so I might focus; my tongue was still hanging out of my mouth. But I made a _real_ effort not to look at it. There were those eyes again, so brown, so _intense. _I bet they could burn a hole right through…something. I was starting to suspect he was right about the tranquilizer dart. "_Fitz_." He said in that stern tone, oops, I had been wandering again. I put on my extra serious face and focused as diligently as I could. "This is _important_. You can tell them the truth about everything. Everything _except_ the necklace. Do you understand? I'd leave time lords out of it as well."

"What? That's the best part!" I pouted, though my mouth was starting to feel funny.

"Because that war on my planet, the one where everyone died? He was the one who ended it. He destroyed all of the time lords to save the universe. I don't know that he would hurt you, but I don't know that he _wouldn't_ either. I _do_ know what he's capable. And I think it's safer if you don't tell him." He sounded so _serious_, way too serious for my liking. But I nodded anyway, because I knew he wasn't going to stop staring at me like that until I gave him some sort of response. He seemed satisfied because he let my chin go.

"Why does he call you Master?" The thoughts were jumping in and out of my head like dancing beans. _Exotic_ dancing beans.

"That's what they used to call me," He looked away, brooding. "That's not my name any more."

"That's good." I said thoughtfully. "Because that would have been _loads_ stupider than 'Professor', even by my standards." I snorted, very much amused with myself.

"You know," He said, glancing back at me. "I used to have people killed for that kind of comment." He said with less humor than I would have liked, but a smile pulled at the corner of his lips.

"I bet you say that to all de girllllllss." I said as I tumbled back onto the cool grass and drank in the darkness that swept over me.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I just wanted to say thank you so much to all my regular reviewers!(and the non regs) You guys are full of awesome! Thank you so _so_ much! Also, I have 'sweet caroline' stuck in my head now. I suffered greatly for this chapter. So there's that.**

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><p>"<em>And when I wake tomorrow I'll bet that you and I will walk together again; cause I can tell that we are going to be friends."<em>

"Well," The Doctor said as he walked back into the main console room. His eyes went to where the Professor sat on the floor, surrounded by both Donna and Jack. They had watched him intently the whole time the Doctor had been gone, despite the handcuffs that attached him to the railing. Jack had his hand on his holster the entire time, despite the angry glares Donna had given him. He was still having trouble figuring her out; she _was_ a time lord, that much he could sense. But then she wasn't, or hadn't always been. _That_ was something new. Possibly, something of a bother. He'd sort it out later. He had enough on his plate just now.

He considered telling them both that he wasn't about to try and take over the ship while the Doctor was safely tucked away. But he supposed that would spoil their fun, believing they served some purpose by guarding him. He needed them all incapacitated at once, otherwise the Doctor had a habit of surprising him by mucking up all his carefully laid plans.

"I've just had a chat with your _friend_." The Doctor's eyes seemed mildly amused. As though he doubted that the Professor was capable of _making_ friends, much less knowing _what_ they were. That was probably a fair point.

"Oh? Did you two have fun?" The Professor asked, his eyebrow raised. He didn't know if the Doctor would admit to him whether she had mentioned the time lord. Or the necklace. It wouldn't really become an issue until Fitz lost control, though, the Doctor didn't seem overly worried. That suggested that he still didn't know. That was something. Maybe Fitz had been smart and kept her mouth shut, perhaps she had managed to avoid getting them into _more _trouble. Hah. That _would_ be the day.

"Yes, she's _quite_ the character..." The Doctor gave a bemused look, but then turned his attention back to the Professor, smiling again. "Awfully worried about what we're doing to you."

"She's sweet that way." The Professor smirked in a snide way.

"Is she alright?" Donna asked, comfortable enough now in the presence of the Doctor to leave the position of watchdog to Jack. That _was _a question he had some interest in. By the time they had appeared on the grass lawn with the TARDIS, Fitz had been completely unconscious. He had managed to stop the bleeding in her shoulder, it hadn't really looked _too_ serious. But there was no way of knowing what the effects of the dart had been. Of course, the Doctor's sharp eyes caught his. He had noticed the Professor lean slightly forward, his sudden piqued interest. Nosey old man.

"Is _she _alright?" The Doctor turned his attention back to Donna, dismissing whatever it was he had recognized in the Professor. "I'm the one who got beaned with a pipe!" He brought his hand to his head gently and looked affronted.

"Yeah," Donna ruffled his hair, which seemed to annoy him. "But you've got a thick head. Besides, she was _shot_." She glared daggers at Jack who raised his hands guiltily.

"It was just a dart! I said I was sorry!" Jack defended. "She kicked me right in the spleen. Does anyone want to see how much _that_ bruised?" Jack started to lift his shirt with a cheeky grin.

"No Jack, no one wants to see _that_." The Doctor muttered, shaking his hand at him.

"Well…" Donna trailed off, shrugging. "I suppose I could stand to see a bit more."

"I _have_ heard great things about Captain Jack's physique." The Professor added solemnly when the Doctor shot Donna a look.

"Oh, don't _encourage_ him." The Doctor chided them both. Jack lowered his hand with feigned disappointment.

"She's just fine." He added, looking specifically at the Professor. Always watching, always calculating. "She was a bit groggy, but she's fine." The Professor did his best to remain impassive. He wasn't sure if it mattered to the Doctor if he cared or not, but he imagined it would make the man _more _curious to find that he did. And the more curious he got, the more questions he was likely to ask. That was a dangerous path all on its own. "She's not much of a fan of yours, Jack." He nodded to the Captain.

"Should I show _her_ my bruise?" Jack asked, his hand reaching for his shirt once again.

"I'm sure that won't be necessary." The Doctor sighed rubbing his fingers against his temple.

"Is she alright…you know," Donna glanced meaningfully in the Professor's direction. "In her head?" She almost whispered and twirled her finger around her ear. Making the universal sign for 'crazy'.

"Yes. She seems to be…all there." The Doctor raised an eyebrow at Donna.

"Well, I don't _know._" Donna pulled a face. "What's she doing traveling with him then?" She jerked her thumb at the Professor.

"That," The Doctor clapped his hands together. "_Is _an interesting question." He strode over to where the Professor still sat and looked down at him curiously. "So. What is it then, what are you up to?"

"Just seeing the sights." He smiled innocently and nodded to Jack. "You have a lovely opera house, by the way."

"Thanks." Jack said mildly, his hand, he noticed, had returned to its holster.

"Yes, I'm sure." The Doctor crouched down next to the Professor, a small smile on his lips. "Why does she call you the Professor?"

"Because that's what I go by now." He didn't see any real need to lie about that. Besides, when he heard them say his name, _Master_, he could feel everything he once had. All that anger, and fear. It still burned deep within him, and he could choose to go back to that, it seemed. Had briefly considered it when Jack had shot Fitz, but the Doctor had stopped him. And Fitz had calmed him. He was surprised to find that had been such a relief.

"Are you serious? What for?" Donna asked him, her face looking perplexed.

"I don't know," He gave her an apathetic look. Such _inane_ questions, he wondered how much longer they would continue to be so _tedious_. "I got _bored_ of the old one." Donna just rolled her eyes, clearly not amused by his banter.

"But why Professor?" The Doctor was still nearby, watching him. "Why not 'Saxon' or 'Survivor' or even 'Carl'? Why did you _choose_ Professor?" There he was, being _clever_ again. He wasn't sure, not entirely. Or perhaps he wasn't willing to admit it. Saxon was just another name for Master, wasn't it? And he _had_ chosen Professor, with the specific man in mind. Was it that he wanted to be more like him? More like his human self? Was he really so _pathetic_?

"Do you think I can pull off Carl?" He asked brightly. If he wasn't ready to admit those suspicions to himself, he _certainly _wasn't about to admit them to the Doctor. The Doctor smirked faintly; he knew the sarcasm was just a shield. The Professor hoped he couldn't read what was behind it.

"Where are you _going, _Professor?" He asked instead of answering him, determined to get something of a straight answer.

"Wherever you are, I suppose." The Professor jangled his handcuffs so that they rattled against the railing.

"You know what I'm asking. What does it have to do with Fitz? Why is she _here_?"

"I just wanted some company." He said with a smile, knowing that his vague answers would eventually frustrate the Doctor. The man who was trying so hard to be patient with him. It wasn't as though he could really tell him anyway. He just needed to bide his time on the ship, waiting for the moment that they let their guard down. "She helped me out of a tight spot, so I brought her along. Promised to show her some stars." He added, there was no reason to be _overly_ aggravating, he supposed.

"You can't just…_swoop_ down and pick people up!" Donna exclaimed with her hands on her hips.

"Why can't I?" The Professor asked. "He does it all the time." He nodded toward the Doctor.

"Oh, don't be _stupid_. He's not…not _kidnapping_ women off the street." She was feisty, but she could suddenly see a similarity there somewhere. He watched it register in her eyes. Perhaps remembering how she had ended up traveling with the Doctor.

"I certainly didn't kidnap her." He smirked. "I imagine that the Doctor asked her that already."

"Actually, she says that's _exactly_ what happened." The Doctor looked very serious then and the Professor couldn't hide the surprise he felt.

"What?" Is that how she saw it? Had he intended that? No. He wanted to help her. How could he have already messed up the only good thing he had tried to do? "Did she really-?" But the Doctor was smirking then, that stupid insipid man.

"No. Course she didn't." The Doctor's smile split into a wide grin. "I just wanted to wipe that smug look off your face." He continued to look pleased with himself as he stood up and crossed the room to the center console.

"You know, I liked you much better when I was dying." The Professor said dryly.

"_Actually_, I get that shockingly often." The Doctor frowned a bit and he started to pace the control room. "So, what do we know?" He looked to Donna, and then Jack. "We_ know_ that Fitz seems to think she's just along for the ride. Or," He held his index finger up. "She's lying. Which, seeing her present company," He stopped pacing to look at the Professor and shrugged, resuming his march. "Isn't _entirely_ out of the realm of possibility." He clapped his hands together. "Onward. We've got the Joulex hunting on Earth, which is _highly_ unusual, and breaking about," He started to count on his fingers and lost track somewhere, "Oh, I don't know, _fifteen_ intergalactic laws. _And._ The _Professor_," He said his name carefully and cast his gaze once again to where the Professor sat on the floor. "Is largely refusing to cooperate. Awfully suspicious. Or, _not_, considering…" He scratched his chin thoughtfully and turned to where Donna was standing, gripping her by the shoulders. "So. What does that all mean, Donna?"

"A great _whopping_ pile of nothing." Donna suggested with an attitude.

"Timey wimey?" Jack looked like he had followed little of what the Doctor was saying.

"Yes, thanks." The Doctor said with annoyance, dropping his hands from Donna's shoulders. "You've both been _incredibly_ helpful."

"_Haaaaands, touching hands."_ A voice drifted up from the stairs below them. _"Reaching oooout. Touching meeee."_

"Is that…" Donna slowly turned toward the hallway of the TARDIS, her head tilted to the side. "Is she _singing_?"

"_Touching yooooooou."_

"Yep." Donna nodded satisfied. "_That's_ Neil Diamond."

"_Sweeeeeeeeeet Caroline! Dun Dun Dun!_" Her voice rose suddenly in volume, it was atrocious. The Professor snorted once, but catching the dubious look of the Doctor, he did his best to cover it up by clearing his throat.

"_Good times never seemed so gooood_." Jack's own voice was much smoother than the one coming from the hall. The Professor had to admit, he was actually quite good. "_Iiiii've been inclined. Dun Dun Dun. To believe they never would._" Jack really seemed to be enjoying himself now.

"Oh, I _love_ Neil Diamond." Donna said with a wistful smile.

"No no _no!_" The Doctor moaned. "Absolutely _no_ Neil Diamond on _my_ TARDIS!" He stroked the console soothingly. "What has the bad lady done to you?" He crooned.

"I like it." Jack grinned. "Can we keep her?"

"You know, we should get a karaoke machine in here. Wouldn't that be nice? Karaoke Tuesdays." Donna bobbed her head side to side with a grin.

"Absolutely _not._" The Doctor strode up to her with a very serious look on his face. "Not while I'm around. Not today. Not _ever. _Under no circumstances will there be _any _kind of karaoke on this ship. Do you understand me?"

"Well, you're just no fun at all." Donna crossed her arms across her chest in a huff.

"You." He turned and leveled his gaze at the Professor, along with the sonic screwdriver in his hand. One of the cuffs snapped open and the Doctor hauled him up to his feet. "You are going to get her to _stop_." He reattached the cuffs in the front, so much for his short-lived freedom. These cuffs looked substantially less hairpin susceptible than the last ones had.

"What makes you think she'll listen to me?" The Professor scoffed at him as he followed the Doctor.

"A _hunch_." The Doctor raised his eyebrow at him, suggesting that maybe the Professor wasn't selling his ambivalence as well as he could be.

"_Sweeeeeeeeeet Caroliiiine!" _The chorus picked up again and the Doctor rolled his eyes, muttering.

"_Dun dun dun…"_ Jack said quietly out of the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, come on." The Doctor grabbed the Professor by the shirt and dragged him along. "And if there is a karaoke machine in this room, or _any_ other room when I get back." He pointed his sonic screwdriver at both Donna and Jack threateningly. "So help me, I _will_ throw you both into space."


	10. Chapter 10

"_Live and learn, from fools and from sages. You know it's true, oh, all these things you do, come back to you__."_

I was hoping that no one had noticed that I was mostly just mumbling the rest of the song. I had no idea what the words were, beyond the chorus. I had the feeling that was how I knew _most_ songs. Oh well, this wasn't a test of memory. This was a test of patience. And I was _totally _going to win.

I was still sitting in the same room where the Doctor had questioned me, and it had been nearly an hour since he left. I thought it had been anyway. Well, my body clock was crap actually, so it could have been ten minutes. Who knew, the only clock I had was my cell phone, and the last I had seen that, was with the Professor.

I wasn't sure what I was waiting for. The Doctor had scared me awake, the last of the sedative still trickling through my system. Apparently, it had been _super_ important for him to come in and bombard me with questions while I was still half-delirious. Couldn't let me sleep off the effects. I bet he was loads of fun to have around when you had a hangover.

All of the questions focused on what I was doing, and most importantly, why I was with the Professor. He didn't seem to believe me when I told him I was just along for the ride. Something in his gaze was a little too calculating for my tastes. Just because I neglected to mention that the 'ride' was a means to get a time lord lobotomized out of my head, didn't mean I was _lying_.

Once he had left, I was on my own. I tried to get back to sleep, but I was too agitated now, wondering what else was going on. Where they had the Professor, and why did he seem _so_ worried about what we were doing. I felt like crawling up the walls, the very…_orange _walls. As if that weren't unnerving enough, and trust me, it _was_. The furniture seemed to keep moving. But that was wrong, it wasn't moving, it was _vanishing_.

And then reappearing.

Always out of the corner of my eyes. When the Doctor was in the room, there had been a table. After he left, and I took a few paces around my 'cell' the table had gone. Now there was a bed, and sometimes, a couch would appear. Either the tranquilizer had some _seriously_ upsetting side effects, or I was in a crazy orange room that shifted. For no other reason than to make me totally bat shit.

The exhaustion, along with the adrenaline I felt every time I saw a pillow shift, was starting to get to me. I was nervous, I was afraid. Frustrated, worried. And irritated on top of that, because I had spent the last two days feeling _all_ of those things. I had it. I was _not_ amused. If I couldn't get any sleep, which I desperately needed, I was going to channel all this crazy energy into something productive.

Like pissing off my jailors.

Maybe it wasn't the brightest idea I'd ever had. But it would keep me busy. Plus, I wasn't making many rational judgment calls at this point. Oh well.

The room was definitely a prison, I could tell that much. Even if it was an oddly…_accommodating_ one. The way I knew for sure, was the door. It was impossible to open. No handles, no star trek buttons. Even 'open sesame' had failed to bring a different result. So had battering it with my fists for five minutes. Not that I had tried that. That would be totally crazy, right? Not like me at all, super calm, super sane. Yep. That sounds _just_ like me.

Sliding to the floor with a disgusted sigh had led me to the promised land. Just below the door, there was a gap, maybe just half an inch, but it was a gap. I could almost hear voices over the droning of the machinery. And that's when 'Sweet Caroline' had drifted into my thoughts. I had been singing, or shouting, it was all the same to my talented voice, ever since.

I was trying to decide if I should just keep singing the chorus, or switch to a new song. And then the door slid open unexpectedly. With my face still pressed against the floor a pair of dusty old brown boots confronted me, and as I looked up, the looming frown of the Doctor. He reached to his side and pulled the Professor forward, his hands shackled together with some kind of military grade cuffs.

"Hello there," The Professor said with wry amusement as he looked down. "Having fun?"

"Loads." I sat up, adjusting the glasses on my face. "I was just thinking maybe I'd sing some Christmas songs. I know how everyone _loves_ holiday music." I pushed myself up from the floor, starting to dust off when I realized that I didn't seem to be dirty at all. _Never_ trust people who were so meticulously clean, it was a sure sign of serial killing, at the very least. Or maybe I made that up. It was hard to tell at this point. "Any requests?" I asked brightly.

"Well-"

"Yes." The Doctor interrupted whatever snide comment the Professor had been about to make. He made a face and mouthed the word 'rude' to me. "If you could stop, that would be lovely." He nodded, hopeful. "Please." He added as an afterthought.

"Not a fan of Neil?" I asked, yet _another_ black mark on this man's serial killer checklist…that I was totally inventing as I went along. I should probably be taking notes.

"Not really, bit of a scoundrel with the ladies." The Doctor shrugged. "Not the _point_ though. It's the singing. Not the artist. You're upsetting the TARDIS." He stroked the wall in a comforting way. Another check for the list.

"Am I upsetting the jerk that shot me?" I asked with a raised eyebrow. No, I _wasn't_ going to let that go. Even if it _had_ only been a dart. Grudge was my middle name.

"No…" The Doctor frowned a bit. "Seems he _is_ a fan of Mr. Diamond."

"He was singing along." The Professor added helpfully.

"Yes. Be that as it _may_." The Doctor shot him a warning glance. "I was reassured that if I brought you a friend, you might be convinced to _stop_."

"I told him you could be reasonable." The Professor shrugged when I looked at him questioningly.

"Well that was stupid." I snorted. But the Doctor didn't seem concerned.

"I'll just leave you to it then." The Doctor bowed his head as he pushed the Professor forward and pointed a very stern finger in my direction. "_No_ more singing."

"Yes _sir._" I had considered calling him ma'am. Despite the sure signs of a deranged lunatic, I found myself gradually becoming less afraid of the Doctor. He just wasn't very… intimidating. It was probably the bow tie. He gave me an exasperated look and a shake of his head before shutting the door.

"Are you alright?" I turned back to the Professor who was inspecting the room. He looked at me strangely.

"What do you mean?"

"Well…" It suddenly occurred to me that he didn't really _look_ as though he had undergone any torture. And the Doctor didn't really strike me as someone who would break fingers to get answers. He was scrawny enough that I didn't know if he even _could_. "They didn't…_do_ anything to you?" I asked, feeling stupid as I said it.

"Other than _bore_ me to death? No." He plopped himself down on the couch and stretched out his arms as well as he could. "Why?" He gave me a curious look, which changed to something more sinister. "Did- Fitz did he _hurt_ you?"

"What? No!" I shook my head quickly. It was that _dangerous_ look of his, the one that crumbled mountains and frankly, scared the hell out of me. "No, I thought… I don't know. I've seen too many movies- would you _stop _looking like that? I'm _fine_." I finally had to hold my hand up, blocking that intense glare. He could start a goddamn fire with those angry eyes.

"Looking like what?" He asked, I was relieved to see his face had changed to just annoyed now. As opposed to murder, and death. I could deal with annoyed. It was a cakewalk compared to the latter.

"Like you want to skin someone alive. You know that's scary, right?" He just scoffed at me, as if I had imagined it. "Whatever, doesn't matter. Can I ask you something?"

"God's, I just got done with that." He grumbled with a scowl. He didn't seem like he was in a very 'Q&A' kind of mood. Well, that was too bad. I wasn't in a 'get kidnapped by aliens in a spaceship' mood either. But here we were, both having a shit day. "Go on then," He waved his hands at me condescendingly. "I'm all ears."

"Did you brainwash me? Or hypnotize, or whatever techno babble that means the same thing?" It sounded stupid as I said it, just like I knew it would. Maybe there was a less silly way to ask, but I sure had no idea how. I know he had been in my mind, I had felt it on the plane. And from all the questions the Doctor had asked me, I was starting to think that he suspected I was under some sort of mind control. And it freaked me out that he might be right.

"Are you serious?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah. Have a laugh at the idiot. Just answer the question, would you?" I wasn't going to let him embarrass me out of getting a straight response.

"No," He said earnestly, realizing, I guess, that I _was_ serious. "I haven't." Did I think he was lying? No. But then, it's not like I was a crack detective either. It didn't help that I _wanted_ to believe him.

"Is that something…something you're-" I waved my hand in the air vaguely. "Capable of?" His imploring face twitched and his jaw tightened. He swallowed and sat back on the couch, making his features carefully blank.

"Yes." He finally answered, reluctantly. Great, so he had _thought _about lying. He hadn't, but I was having a hard time feeling good about that. This was a _fantastic_ line of questioning I had decided to go down. Maybe next time someone said 'ignorance is bliss' I would god damn_ listen_.

"Then how do I know you haven't?" Yeah, keep asking questions. I'm sure this is going to _totally_ calm you down. Of course, once I had thought of them, it didn't matter if I asked it or not. It would keep nagging at me until I went full on nervous breakdown. And I had already hit my quota for the week.

"You would know." He rolled his eyes at me as if I were acting like a child. _Ass_.

"How?" I threw my hands up in the air. "How would I know that? I'm not some big smartass alien who controls time and space, and can do this neat parlor trick where I _brainwash _people." My voice was getting higher as I went. "I'm just a _stupid_ human who was told, _very_ explicitly, that you're not who you say you are. They have a whole other name for you. The Master! Like some god damn super villain! With a cape! Oh, and they also mentioned that everything you do is for your own devious purposes. Which, _coincidently_, seems to fit the super villain archetype. How strange! And hey, by the way. We're in a spaceship. In space!" I had run out of air by the end of my rant and had to take a deep breath. Jesus, I didn't even _know_ all of those thoughts had been racing around in my head. I felt like I was going to explode, or melt. Or some weird flammable slushy mix of both.

"Alright," He said calmly. "It's okay. Just come sit down."

"No!" I yelled defiantly, and if that stupid table had still been around somewhere, I would have climbed on top of it. Just to be _extra_ sure that I was doing the total opposite of sitting. I saw the table start to materialize out of the corner of my eye. "You knock it off!" I pointed to the empty corner of the room warningly. The table stayed gone. Point goes to Fitz. Room, _zero_.

"That should prove it pretty well." The Professor smirked and I turned back to him. "If I had control of you, you'd be sitting. And you probably wouldn't be yelling at the TARDIS." He shrugged, as though it were still a possibility. It was pretty sound logic. But then, the room was changing around me, I wasn't sure if logic was part of the game anymore.

"What if you're letting me think I have some free will…and…and that's making me crazy. To yell at stuff." I pointed at him accusingly. "What if it's a trick?"

"That's not how it works." He sighed impatiently. "You'd be little more than a shell. You would lack personality."

Well, I still _felt_ like myself. A totally _unhinged_ version of myself, sure. But for the most part, still _me._ Of course, that all depended on his being honest. I looked at the couch longingly; it reminded me of the one in my living room. The one I could be sitting at right now, curled up with a book. Infinitely _less_ crazy. Okay, maybe just a _little_ bit less crazy. But an _important_ bit. My stomach crawled as I thought I saw a shelf forming on one of the walls. I pushed it out of my mind; it wasn't the room's fault I was here. It was _his_.

"So you've done it before?" There it was again, the strained look. It seemed to precede answers that I didn't want to hear. He didn't have much of a poker face. Maybe if I would just _stop _asking questions. Fat chance.

"Yes." He said in a curt tone, almost defiantly.

"_Why_?" My face contorted in horror. Who would do that to someone? How could _he_ do that? It was as if he had admitted to liking cheeto stuffed raw squid. It was just so _wrong_.

"What business is it of yours?" He snapped at me unexpectedly. I say unexpectedly, but that was just because I had been naive. Or plain stupid. This was a _bad_ person. And I had come here with him. I had _saved_ him. Did that make _me_ a bad person? I was _way_ out of my depth here. I stepped back, shaking my head. I didn't want to stay in this room with a _deranged_ alien any more. I'd take my chances with the serial killer with the stupid tie. I turned for the door.

"I don't…" His voice had deflated of its annoyance. I looked back at him, but he was avoiding my gaze. "I don't have a good answer for that." He finally finished, glancing up before he returned his eyes to the wall. "They suited my purposes at the time."

"Not life or death, I suppose?" My tone was vicious; I bet my face was too.

"No." He said with a sigh.

"What happened to them?" I stood there waiting with my arms crossed.

"Fitz…" He looked at me pleadingly. Telling me to shut up with those _stupid_ amber eyes of his.

"What happened?" I insisted. "What happened to the people you brainwashed for _no damn reason_!" I was shouting. I hardly ever shouted. Well, when I was sober. But god dammit. I was _angry_. He had tricked me. I thought he was my _friend_, that he _cared_. But I was just a _stupid_ means to some _stupid_ end. Whatever end it was, I was fairly certain it wasn't going to be _good_.

"They died." He said with finality, his eyes glittered dangerously. Even knowing the answer was coming, it still felt like a blow. Like all the air had been sucked out of the room.

"…did you?" There I was again, asking _more_ questions I didn't want answered. Not by _him _anyway.

"No, I didn't kill them." He said with some bitterness. I was surprised that some of the tension had left my body. "I probably could have helped them. They were just people I needed to use. Unimportant."

"So the Doctor was right," I nodded. "That's what you're doing with me. I'm just someone you needed to _use_."

"No." He said with a frown, looking straight at me. "That's _not_ true."

"Well, he thinks so. And he seems to know you _really_ well." I turned back to the door and rapped my knuckles against it. "I don't think I want company after all."

"Fitz, don't." He said imploringly. I didn't realize he had gotten up until his hand was on my shoulder, pulling me around to face him. "This is…this is different." I felt myself believing him. Of _course_ I did. That's what manipulative bastards were good at. _Manipulating_. And being bastards. I had enough experience with old boyfriends to know _all_ about that.

"I'm sure that's what you told all your other little 'friends'" I sneered at him, though I noticed I wasn't knocking on the door anymore.

"I haven't got _friends_. Just people I used to get what I want." If that was his persuasive speech, it needed some work. "I was a _bad_ person." Okay, it needed _serious_ work. "There was a sickness in me. It made me, angry, violent. It made me…_wrong_." He shook his head with a frown. "That's just an excuse. Because all those things, they're still inside of me. But it's different now. I don't…" He searched the ceiling as he tried to explain. "I don't feel like I _have_ to lash out. The Doctor- he took away that _disease_. I don't think he knew what would happen. That it would _change_ me." He shrugged. "I'm sure he _hoped_ it would. But that's how they still see me. The way I was before. That's why they think I've got you under some spell for my own _purpose_." His eyes caught mine again, beseechingly. "It _is_ different now. I expected to _die_ on that street. I had made my peace with that. But you…_you_ helped me." He swallowed letting his eyes drift to the floor, he looked annoyed, and for once, not _at_ me. Maybe embarrassed? He certainly didn't sound like himself. "I want to help you Fitz. That's all."

"So the Doctor's really the good guy?" I asked, that was the most glaring thing that I had noticed in his speech. The man he had warned me against, the man who was traveling with a tranq shooting lunatic. That was the man I _should _have been siding with.

"In a manner of speaking." His voice was dry, clearly not pleased that that was all I had gotten from what he had just said.

"Great," I said with a bracing smile and knocked my hand against the door again. "Then I'll just ask _him _for help."

"Don't." He said, with just a _hint _of a growl. His hands reached up and stilled mine so quickly I hardly had time to scowl at him. If there was a glaring daggers contest, we were about evenly matched right then. "What I told you is _true_. He's not a danger right now because he doesn't _know_. But he _did_ destroy Gallifrey. He _killed_ our people. All of them. He believed it was the only thing he could do. He _believed_ it was right." Great. The good guy was a mass murderer. He was just _full _of good news today. "I honestly don't know what he'll do if he finds out. But I'd rather we have a solution at hand. If we go to him now, it has the potential to…" He trailed off.

"To what?"

"End badly." He finished gently.

It was hard _not_ to believe him. Not only because I wanted to, but because he had told me so many things I _didn't_ want to know. Things I was pretty sure I would have _rather _he lie about. That is, until I caught him. But that was in the _other_ universe where we had gotten to the point where I had the luxury of worrying about things like my hurt feelings. That was definitely not _this_ universe. This universe was where the bad guy was afraid of what the good guy was capable of. This universe was _scary _as shit. I noticed about the same time he did that his hands were still pinning mine against the door. It probably would have been more polite not to look so livid about it, but he got the message anyway, releasing his grip.

"I _do _want to help. I like you, Fitz."

"You _like_ me?" I asked with a raised eyebrow, caught between annoyance and laughter. I only had to be _really_ worried if he admitted that he 'like-like'd me. So it was still in the funny territory. Of course, the hilarity I felt was probably due to hysteria.

"Yes," He said snidely, aware of my amusement at his expense. "I've had few friends. Certainly none of them _human_." He made sure I knew that he still thought my species was below him. But his annoyed look faded somewhat. "I'd like it if I could consider you one of them."

I watched him for a long moment, speculating. He honestly meant it. Well. As far as _I_ could tell, he did. Was that all it took? Really? A deranged mind controlling murderer could just walk up to me, admit his crimes, and then ask to be friends? I'd be totally fine with that? _Seriously_?

I was an idiot, a sucker. A _fool_. My brain had valuable points to make, as well as a number of names to call myself. Although, it also remembered the look on the Professor's face when I had been shot. That _intense_ rage. That hadn't just been _at_ Jack, it had been on my behalf. He did care. It did seem to be in a warped, screwed up way. But that still counted, didn't it?

It _was_ better to befriend a psychopath, than stand in his way.

Sure. That was what finally convinced me. _Logic_. Right. That sounded _just _like me.

It definitely wasn't my soft spot for bad boys. Or blondes. No. That had nothing to do with it. If I could get the voices in my head, _my _voices, to stop calling me a moron by convincing them I was just playing along, and that it was safer this way; then that was _exactly_ what I was going to do.

No one said I had to admit that the space man was growing on me. Like some kind of puppy eyed space orphan. Or _fungus_. Yeah. That was closer to it.

"Fine." I said grudgingly. If this was some elaborate trick he had planned, it didn't matter. I was already way too caught up in it. And to be honest, I _desperately _needed a friend. If I couldn't trust the Doctor, and I _certainly_ couldn't trust myself, or the time lord lurking within, I had no one else. I _had_ to trust him. If I didn't, I was _actually _going to go crazy. Because I wasn't strong enough, or clever enough, to do this on my own. "But I'm not letting you sit at the cool kids table with me. I have a reputation to uphold."

"A reputation?" He asked thoughtfully. "_That's_ interesting."

"Oh, you have _no_ idea." I said just as cryptically as he had. Sure, go head. Flirt with the _psychopath_. Nothing could _possibly_ go wrong there. "So. What are we going to do? Make a run for the door?" My own plan of knocking until someone showed up was momentarily forgotten.

"Not _quite_ what I had planned." If his face was anything to go on, he thought that was a real crap idea. "The TARDIS is actually a good place to be. Getting it to where we want will be a _bit_ more complicated. I suppose a hospital would do, they've got the equipment we need. And then just another life form to transfer the consciousness to-"

"Another life form?" I asked skeptically. "Instead of it being _my_ problem, it'll be someone else's? That's a shitty thing to do."

"Not a _conscious_ life form. A coma patient would do," He shook his head as though it were nothing to stick another living mind into someone who was unable to communicate the words 'Do. Not. Want.'. "_Or_…" He started, seeing the fierce glower I was giving him. "Perhaps the Flesh. Artificial life could work as well. It will just be temporary. Then perhaps I can let the Doctor know, and we can discuss what should be done."

"You really think that'll work?" It all sounded so _easy_ when he said it like that. I was feeling almost _optimistic_.

"I hope so." He shrugged.

"That's _incredibly_ reassuring." I muttered. But he wasn't impressed with my sardonic frown, he was looking past me.

"Oh, Fitz." His voice lacked the scathing tone I had come to expect. I _really _didn't like the look he was giving me either. It was _pity_. "Your hand…"

I turned to look over my shoulder where my hand still rested on the door. It _had_ been still. Only now, one finger moved, of its own accord. Repeating one single pattern.

_One, two, three, four._

_One, two, three, four._


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: I just wanted to say a super extra special thank you to Cetacea-of-time, Purplecherrysodapop (sounds delicious), and sawmaniac211 because you guys are really super _phenomenally_ awesome and I really do appreciate your kind words! They were extra helpful this time too, because for some reason or another, I was just really struggling with this chapter. So the encouragement was just what I needed.** **THANK YOU!**

**Also, thank you helen! you've got pm's blocked, so I couldn't message you back :P**

* * *

><p>"<em>I'm not here. This isn't happening. I'm not here, I'm not here."<em>

"Fitz?" He said cautiously, she hadn't turned away from her hand yet and the silence between them was dragging on. Her finger suddenly stopped its tapping and he felt a wild moment of hope. But it was crushed just as soon as she rounded to face him. Her mouth spread wide in a grin, but it didn't come across as Fitz, instead it looked cruel.

"Oh. No. Sorry. It's just me." She said in her snide way, dropping her hand to her side and stepping away from the door. He kept a distance between them as she stalked in his direction; she sniffed dismissively at his wariness. Her hand didn't twitch as she strolled, nor did she seem to be keeping the beat to the drums anywhere else. That was concerning, as was her ability to walk around fluidly when she had been trapped in her chair before. The necklace was likely still a weakness, one he _should_ exploit. But he hesitated, they needed _something _to fight this thing_. _His lack of knowledge on the manner frustrated him and he could see this as an opportunity to take advantage of the time lord while it was still weak, still forced to battle Fitz for control.

"The time lord." He said in a hollow voice.

"Yes. That's me." She smirked at him. "What's the matter? You don't look pleased to see me." She pouted.

"Not particularly." The Professor sneered. "Where did you come from?" She looked up at him sharply, her circling of the room briefly disrupted.

"The _Void_." She hissed the word as though it were a curse. Her eyes filled with a dark madness that startled even the Professor with its bleakness. But then her face was a mask of calm condescension once more. "Do you know why they call it the 'howling' _Master_?" She asked with a smirk.

"No." He said with a scowl, hating hearing that name with Fitz's voice. Hated hearing it at all.

"It's not because of the wind. That's an old wives tale." She said dismissively. "There _is_ nothing there. No wind, no air. _Nothing_." That madness lingered in her eyes again, clearly the void had a rather lasting effect. "It's the screams. That is the _howling_. Everything ever banished, ever fallen through the cracks in the universe. They scream. _Endlessly_." He felt himself shudder as he imagined it, the vast nothingness that made up the space between the universes. The place with no time or matter.

"How are you here then?" He asked, disguising the fear in his voice as aggression. Something he had always been good at.

"Oh, I am no mortal creature. I am a _god._" Her voice shook angrily as she spoke. "The prison the Doctor made was not strong enough to hold me, what makes you think the void would be?"

"The Doctor?" He frowned, what could _he_ possibly have to do with this? Of course, he had been the end of the time lords; perhaps there were some who knew that. Some that intended to make him suffer for it. How they could escape the time lock, the moment, or even the void itself, he did not know. Nor did he particularly want to think on it.

"Yes, the _Doctor_." She glared. "We are on his TARDIS, are we not? These human thoughts are so complicatedly jumbled." She frowned as she seemed to be struggling internally. "Yes," She smiled then, satisfied she had found the answer. "And when this silly girl is found by my friends, she will die. And I will remain."

"Friends?" The Professor spoke derisively. "I doubt very much that you have friends."

She threw her head back and laughed at him then, a chilling sound.

"The Master is to lecture me on _friends_?" She pressed her hand against her neck and looked at him pitifully. "The only friends you ever had betrayed you. Left you with the madness and _scorned_ you." She threw the words at him like an accusation. His hands clenched at his side and he felt his blood boiling.

"What do you know?" He hissed angrily, watching her like a hawk as she circled him. The mirth in her cruel grin never fading.

"Oh, I know _so _much." She raised her eyebrows at him. "But don't worry your pretty head about that. When my _friends_," She enunciated the word for his benefit. "Find this little girl. They will drain her dry. And then I will be free to take control."

"_That's_ not going to happen." The Professor warned her with a glare.

"Oh?" She asked mildly. "Do you think so? It is only a matter of time, Master. But if it makes you feel better, you can lie to yourself. And then when I am free? I will kill the both of you. The Doctor and the Master. Something I should have done _long_ ago." She spat at him.

"You won't survive." He scowled, ignoring the threats of death, so _tedious_. If she were capable of such a thing now she wouldn't waste her time taunting him. "Humans cannot contain a time lord conscious. She will burn up, and take you with her." That seemed to cause her to hesitate, the smug look draining from her face.

"Nonsense." She scoffed. "She just needs a bit of…stretching." She grinned, as though the idea gave her pleasure.

"I'm warning you," He growled, wanting to wipe that grin of her face with his fist. "If you _hurt _her-"

"My dear boy," She tsked him as she strode over and he did his best not to flinch away. "Don't make threats you have no _hope_ of delivering." Her own fury was a palpable thing. But then she blinked rapidly, as though distracted. "So _irritating_." She frowned. "She's shouting such nonsense. She cannot be gone soon enough. Sweet Caroline, _indeed_." She pressed her fingers against her forehead as though silencing the voices inside.

_Fitz. Hold on._

She caught the angry flash in the Professor's eyes and let the smile return to her face. "Oh, did you want to listen to her screams?" For a brief moment, he thought that she might allow it. "No, that would be _boring_." She dismissed him with a huff. "There there little one," She patted her cheek reassuringly. "It'll all be over soon." She shrugged. "I'm afraid she can't hear me though, the drums are _much_ too loud."

The _drums_? How did she know of them? Along with his cold rage, he felt the faintest bit of fear trickling down his back.

"They do have a rather _seductive_ quality though, don't you think?" She inspected herself as she stood there. "Perhaps I shall find a few human pets of my own once this _dull_ business is concluded."

"I think you should get out before I _kill _you." He growled, his eyes blazing at her as he made every struggle not to strike her. There was a voice in the back of his head, albeit a very small one, that reminded him Fitz was still in there.

"Oh my." She sniffed. "You're not fun at all." She slapped him playfully and then let her fingers drag down his jaw line. "Oooh. Or is this _your_ pet?" She grinned maliciously and he snatched her wrist out of the air, the fury boiled in his veins as his hands crushed around her frail bones. "Hit a nerve have I?" She giggled. "I'll make _you_ a promise then. When my friends arrive, and they will. I won't let them finish her off. _I_ will." Her smirk was feral and dangerous. "And she'll die screaming my name." As she leaned forward, her lips brushing against his ear, he reached for the necklace with his free hand. "_Rassilon_." She whispered, before bursting into cold laughter. His blood froze and he forced his hand to pull the necklace away from her skin, but the laughter continued. With his hand tight against her wrist, he realized it wouldn't be enough; Fitz was unable to fight back this time. He gritted his teeth and threw himself at the barrier, shoving against the other consciousness with all his might. The laughter caught in her throat and for just an instant he could hear the drums again, it was all he could do to fight the urge to scream.

The laugh faded to a hiss and he felt Fitz crumple against him, the necklace dropping from his hand as he struggled to steady her. She took a deep breath and stood once more. He stared down at her and searched her eyes for proof that the monster was gone again.

"Professor?" She asked in dazed way, trying to step back but finding herself pinned against him. "You're hurting me." She frowned, trying to twist her arm out of his grasp.

"Sorry," He said dispassionately, his mouth dry, he realized his fingers were still clenched tightly over her wrist. He dropped it, along with his arm that had supported her, taking a quick step back.

"It happened again." She said with certainty, but it seemed as though she were asking him, hoping he might deny it.

"Yes." He said roughly. "You didn't see?" He asked her with a frown.

"Maybe…" She massaged her wrist as she thought back. "It felt like a dream, it's all a blur." She shook her head. "I can remember the drums. They were so _loud_." She had a pained look and the Professor's jaw tightened, he was intimately familiar with the feeling. "What's a Rassilon?"

"Nothing." Swallowing, he struggled to control the muscles in his face. "It's nothing," He put on a practiced smile. "Are you alright?"

"Sure," She shrugged. "I feel awesome." Her tone suggested she was anything but. She also stifled a yawn as she rubbed her temples. "So what happened?"

"Maybe you should get some rest." He suggested. He knew he should probably tell her what had happened, what he had learned. But he didn't want to. He didn't want to admit that the danger he had previously thought she was in was nothing compared to this new revelation he had discovered. How could he tell her that the man who was causing her madness was Rassilon? The man intent on destroying the universe itself. The man who both he and the Doctor had tried to kill. And if she hadn't even been aware this time, how much stronger did that mean he was?

She looked so exhausted he couldn't quite bring himself to tell her any of that. He had forgotten how much humans needed to rest. What had she gotten, maybe thirty minutes of sleep thanks to Captain freak? And then the Doctor had gone in to question her. It didn't help that the past thirty-six hours had been so stressful, exponentially increasing her need to recover. He walked her over to the couch and helped her sit down. She pressed her fingers against her temples again, struggling with whatever was still haunting her memories. Likely the drumming, sometimes still he thought he heard it, deep in the recesses of his mind.

Perhaps it was time to speak with the Doctor. Not, of course, to share _all_ of the details. He still had no doubt that if push came to shove, he would dispense with Fitz just as he had with the rest of the time lords. He had made that choice, and now the Professor doubted that he could make any other when he found out it was Rassilon they dealt with. But still, he could drop enough of a hint that perhaps there was something wrong with her, something that needed medical attention. The Doctor was nothing, if not a sucker, for helping those in need. Especially _humans_.

"Could you…" She trailed off and he snapped his attention back to her. Worried that she was losing control again, maybe the exhaustion had been what had made it so easy for Rassilon to slip through again. But the look in her eyes suggested she hadn't lost the battle yet, oddly enough, she looked…embarrassed?

"What?" He asked seriously, as he crouched down, searching her gaze. She sighed and leaned her head back on the couch, deliberately not meeting his eyes.

"Could you do that…thing." Her cheeks started to grow red as she took off her glasses and pressed the ridge of her nose. "That…calming thing?" He frowned a moment before he understood what she was asking.

"Ah," He said, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. "That thing you were just shouting at me about?"

"Yes." She said, her lips pressed together in annoyance. Clearly not as amused by the irony as he was. "I'm just worried if I got to sleep I'll…" She didn't have to finish the thought, he imagined he knew exactly where her fears lay.

"Of course." He said in a more appropriate tone. If nothing else, he hoped that meant she had started to trust him. He could make sure the drums wouldn't follow her into her dreams. The thought of someone else suffering the same fate as he had made him irrationally angry, even more determined to put a stop to it. He plopped himself on the couch next to her and raised his arms, beckoning her forward.

She stared at him with an eyebrow arched.

"I'll have to remain in contact with you." He explained. "Might as well be comfortable. Is that a problem?" He found himself slightly annoyed at her reluctance. _Some_ trust, perhaps. But there was clearly still work to be done.

"I guess with a parasite living in my brain, space cooties are probably the least of my troubles." She grumbled as she adjusted herself more comfortably on the couch next to him.

"Who says I've got cooties?" He said the word with distain. "Besides, everyone knows humans are the germ carrier species. I should probably be wearing gloves." That at least gained a small smile from her, which he found was a relief. She settled her head against his shoulder as he dropped his arms around her somewhat stiffly.

"No copping a feel." She warned, glaring up at him from the corner of her eye.

"My services come with a price." He sneered at her.

"Pervert." She muttered.

"Shh." He chided her. "Go to sleep or I'll make you dream about going to school in the nude." She snorted but finally obliged by closing her eyes. He adjusted his arms until they draped more comfortably, no need to spend the next few hours miserable. He closed his own eyes and breathed deeply. Reaching back to find that quiet place in his mind, where things were peaceful.

He doubted he could have done this before, when he still had his own drums to deal with. Though he never bothered to try. He had only used his psychic link to inflict fear or obedience, it had probably never even occurred to him. It surprised him a little that he thought to try it on the plane. But then, he seemed to be just full of surprises, wasn't he?

He didn't think she'd be comforted by a desolate blackness in her dreams; humans were always so nervously skittish in the dark. But he had no idea what _would_ calm her, so instead he thought back to what would calm _him_. He remembered Gallifrey, as it had been when he was a boy. He remembered a long afternoon where he sat among the deep red grasses, his pencils and sketchpad spread out before him. Trying desperately to capture the colors of the two suns as they set on the horizon. He felt a deep well of serenity from that memory and he let it grow in his mind. His body relaxed with each heartbeat and he focused sending that feeling down through his arms, spreading out to where Fitz lay next to him. It wrapped around them both like a warm blanket and he felt her body relax against his, her breathing stretch out into the slow deep breaths of a peaceful rest.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Um. This chapter _really_ got away from me. Sorry about that. Thank you again to my wonderful reviewers! Hope your eyes don't bleed!  
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><p>"<em>Where do bad folks go when they die? They don't go to heaven where the angels fly; they go down to the lake of fire and fry."<em>

I woke with a grumble as my pillow started to shift beneath me. Ignoring it, I attempted to sleep on. I'm a trooper like that. But something was distracting me, something that was slowly clenching at my gut like a vice.

_One, two, three, four. _

_One, two, three, four._

What the _hell!_ My eyes jerked open; all thoughts of peaceful, bliss-filled sleep banished to the back of my mind. I was not about to have _another_ incident, no matter how high and mighty this time lord _thought _he was. I was staying firmly in control, god dammit.

And that was final. For serious.

I looked around blearily, my brain not quite catching up with my fight or flight reaction. You think I'd learnt my lesson on falling asleep in strange places. But you'd be wrong.

Speaking of strange places to fall asleep…I recognized the white shirt and tie that I was slumped over. Apparently, at some point in my nap, I had decided to drape myself across the Professor so that he might serve more comfortably.

Oops.

I was also kind of shoving my palm into his chest as I was trying to sit up properly. Oh well, this was all _his_ fault as far as I was concerned. He deserved a little abuse. Actually, a _lot_.

I could be mortified later.

That drumming through, that was still _there._ I felt my calm _really_ start to deteriorate. What was moving? Could I still stop it? Why can't I tell what the hell is twitching?

"Fitz?" The Professor regarded me with a strange look. I was still focused intently and being very still so as not to disturb the delicate balance I had between me and the time lord. The evil one. Well, the _more_ evil one. The one in my head, anyway. And then I felt it. It was _in_ my hand. Pulsing like it was _alive_.

What. Is. Going. _On_?

"Oh." I said, my brain slowly clicking into gear. This is probably the reason that I should drink coffee in the morning. "You have two hearts." I finally looked up at him. Mystery solved Sherlock, good work.

"Yes?" He said impatiently. "Do we need to have that talk _again_?"

"No." I scowled at him. I could be just as unpleasant as him. More so, since I had just been woken up. They call me queen of the grumpy people when my slumber is interrupted. Well. No. They don't.

"I just thought I heard the drums again. I thought…" I swallowed, my own annoyance fading. I thought what? That I was a total goner? That was _comforting_. A brief look of sympathy crossed his face, but just as quickly, it vanished.

"Well, you didn't." He said condescendingly.

"Good to know." I shoved myself upright more rudely than I needed to. I struck my elbow into his stomach for good measure. He gave a satisfying grunt. Jerk.

"You two look quite cozy." Donna's demure voice called from over my shoulder. Ah, that's why he was being a jerk. Well, that, and he _was_ a jerk. I spun around and realized the Professor's arms were still linked around me. The position looked, well. Compromising.

"I wasn't- We weren't _doing_ anything." I suddenly blurted out. _Very_ smooth. Let's try and sound as guilty as possible. "I was resting." I finished lamely. I couldn't even come up with a reasonable lie. I would make the _worst_ criminal.

"Yes, she noticed." The Professor said with something akin to scorn. Though he sounded slightly amused. What a surprise. "Which is why I woke you up." He sat up straighter and lifted his arms from around me. Of _course_ we weren't doing anything. I had almost forgotten, I was the scummiest thing in the universe. He would never deign to lower himself from his lofty _psychopath_ tower to mingle with a _human_. Right. Focus Fitz. Psychopath. Okay, _recovering_ psychopath. Still, why am I having this conversation at all? Crazy is still crazy. Crazy _alien_. Even worse! So shut up! Idiot!

"To what do we owe the pleasure, miss Noble?" He interrupted my internal berating. I straightened myself as though I had just been _waiting_ for the creep to unhand me, letting my annoyed glare blister him with its…scorchy fire. But he wasn't looking. Jerk.

"Oh," Donna shrugged as she walked further into the room. "You know, just taking a stroll. Thought maybe Fitz could join me."

"Of course." He nodded with a grin. "The good Doctor has to send _someone_ to warn the poor innocent woman of my terrible past." He was being snide again. Great, _loved_ that quality of his.

"Something like that." Donna said with an arched eyebrow.

"Well, I'll just leave you to it then." He stood up from the couch and started to walk innocently toward the door. The cuffs made the whole 'innocent' angle a little harder to sell. Donna stepped out in front of him and he came to a stop.

"Yeah. Here I was, forgetting how _funny_ you are." Donna rolled her eyes.

"And how do _you_ know how funny I am?" The Professor frowned at her.

"He's _not_ funny." I offered, but neither of them seemed interested in my opinion. Right. The _human_. I'll just be seen and not heard. You know, until a maniac time lord takes over. Good luck.

"It's _complicated_." Donna muttered, clearly not interested in explaining, least of all to the Professor. "Back to the couch with you." She gave him a push. "Fitz can do with a walk, I wager. _You_ just stay put."

"It was worth a shot." The Professor shrugged as he returned to drop himself on the couch. Donna looked to me expectantly.

Well, he wasn't funny. And he was kind of a jerk. But he was _my_ jerk. I sat there awkwardly.

"Well, come on then." She gestured toward the door. "I promise I don't bite."

"I'd get that in writing." The Professor suggested, like the obnoxious brat he was.

I still hesitated. What can I say, I felt safe in my little cell. It hadn't shifted in the whole five minutes I had been awake. Maybe that meant we were friends now? Of course, that wasn't really what it was, and as much as I wanted to pretend I was a hero, it wasn't really because I was worried about leaving the Professor behind.

It was, like it always was, about _me_.

What if I had another…_incident_? I didn't like the idea of that, especially since I couldn't remember what had happened the last time. Another take over was at the top of my 'not awesome' list of things. And it was starting to be a _really_ long list.

"Go on, I'm sure you girls will have _fun_." The Professor didn't even look like he could help the sneer that plastered across his face. I shot him another dark look and that seemed to briefly remind him that we were _supposed _to be on the same team. He looked at Donna sharply before turning his attention back to me. "It'll be fine." He said in an _almost_ reassuring tone, speaking quietly enough that Donna wouldn't hear. "Any trouble and you know where you can find me." He raised his arms so that the cuffs jangled. Sure, that made me feel _much_ better. Any trouble and the only person who can help you is just a prison cell away. _Super_.

"You don't _always_ have to be an asshole." I muttered in the same low tone.

"Force of habit." He grinned. _Crap_. He looked good _and_ crazy when he did that.

"Everything alright? Got dads permission?" Donna stood near the door with her arms crossed over her chest. She was trying to look bored, but her eyebrows were somewhere in the stratosphere of her forehead.

"Fine." I grumbled, pushing myself up from the couch.

"See you soon, _princess_." That smug son of a bitch. If I wasn't already halfway across the room, I would have slapped him. I might still, just as soon as I got back. He wasn't worth the effort of turning around.

"Have her back before dark." Donna shot a look over her shoulder and I couldn't be certain, but I thought she stuck her tongue out at the Professor before shutting the door. I found myself thinking I could _like_ Donna.

"I'm Donna, by the way." She introduced herself and I shook her hand warily. I suppose we hadn't had a formal introduction, what with the shooting and all.

"Fitz." I replied.

"Lovely to meet you." She grinned. I wasn't entirely sure I could say the same. "So…" She started to smirk. "You and the Master, hm?"

"No." I said probably quicker than I should have. I could have pretended to not know what she was talking about, or laughed. Or basically _anything_ other than what I did. Which was flush bright red. "And it's _Professor_." I corrected. Yeah, that'll _really_ sort out her nonsense.

"Right. Sorry." She nodded slowly. "Keep forgetting that bit, _Professor_." She said the name as if it were any sillier than _Master_. Kudos to her for being a 'Donna'. "So you two aren't…" She trailed off.

"I was _resting_." I insisted. No, I still hadn't come up with a reasonable excuse. And yes, I'd still make a terrible crook, along with a terrible liar. I could _feel_ the heat boiling off of my head.

"Right." She said in that way that suggested she thought I was completely full of it. Remember when I thought I might like her? I certainly didn't. She was dead to me. Deader than dead. Her _grandchildren_ would be dead to me.

"When the sedative knocked me out, you know, from when I was _shot_." Yeah, I threw _that_ in her face. Bet that would put the piss in her cheerios. "I had weird dreams. Freaked me out. The Professor said he could do some kind of psychic thing so I wouldn't dream."

"I _bet _he did." Donna snorted loudly.

"Well, maybe if I hadn't been attacked by aliens, shot, and kidnapped in the same day he wouldn't have to!" I snapped. Okay. It hadn't all been in the same day. Same period of me being awake? Whatever. It was a lot of bullshit, and I did _not_ need this woman to be harassing me about the crush I was harboring for a universally known deranged _lunatic_. I was judging myself _plenty_.

"Alright, alright!" Donna put her hands up defensively. "No need to get excited. I was just having a laugh."

I sighed. All the fight gone out of me. What did it _really_ matter if my _kidnappers_ thought I was 'with' someone? I seriously doubted my personal life was of any importance in the grand scheme of things. _Especially if a certain time lord took over my mind and killed the shit out of me_. A helpful voice reminded me. _Thanks_.

"Sorry." I said sheepishly. "It's been a weird couple of days."

"Aw, that's alright. I know how that goes." Donna said with a grin. "My first day I got plucked right out of my wedding. I landed here, with this skinny little stick of a man. Then robot Santa's kidnapped me. A giant spider. And I guess my fiancé was the one who had been poisoning me for the past six months. He ended up feeding a hoard of Racnoss." It was _unsettling_ how casual she said all this.

"Wow." I said. I didn't know what a Racnoss was, but I doubted that the words 'hoard' and 'feeding' ever went together in a sentence that ended pleasantly. Suddenly my complaints seemed a bit silly. Well. No. They didn't. But I could at least sympathize with her. "Sorry." Yeah, that came out pretty weak. I wasn't really the comforting type.

"It's alright," She shrugged it off, like it was no big deal. I had doubts that I could be so blasé about it. Cause I mean, I _hated _spiders. "Happened a _long_ time ago. And that silly man, well, he helped me sort it all."

We came to a stop outside a wide door that couldn't have been more than a dozen feet from where we had started. Donna pressed a gleaming button nearby and with a whoosh, the room opened up to reveal…absolute darkness. "The Doctor's quite handy that way. _Helping_ people." She seemed to be hinting at me. Whatever, I wasn't falling for that. "Not…you know. _Handy,_ like _other_ time lords."

"Watch it." I shot her a glare, but even that did nothing to dissuade her grinning. I _needed_ to work on my scary face.

"Well, I'm sorry," No, she wasn't , she wasn't sorry at _all_. "I've just never seen the Professor, you know…_cuddling_ with someone."

Oh good, I guess that meant he was single. No, shut up. So _not_ the path we're going down right now. If there was any more blood rushing to my face I was sure it would explode.

"Oh, I bet the Doctor would have dropped _dead_ if he had seen _that_." With a loud squawk, which I would have found funny in _any_ other circumstance, she started to laugh. Great, I'm glad she wasn't holding back on _my_ account.

I wondered if there was a God, and if he was there, maybe he might grant me the ability to melt into the floor. And possibly, _die_. Although, considering my situation, it seemed like _really_ bad juju to be wishing for a merciful death. No matter how convenient it would have been for escaping the utter shame that I was pretty sure I would never _ever_ forget, even if I lived to be eighty…_thousand_. Still though, a little melting? Anything? God? You there? No? Just me then. _Peachy_.

"I'm sorry." Donna said between gasps. Yeah, she _still _didn't sound sorry at all. "Really, I am. It's just, if you had known him before…" She sobered up slightly as she wiped away a tear. "Well. Yeah." She finished with a sniff.

"What's in here?" I asked brightly, obnoxiously so. Anything to put this moment behind me. An _earthquake_ would do. The room was obscured by some black fog, so it was a valid question. Especially since there was a breeze coming from inside. Not a fan, but a very inconsistent blowing wind. That was weird, right? Not just an excuse to get Donna talking about something _other_ than me and the Professor?

"Oh," Donna said with a sigh, finally regaining control of herself. Thank merciful _Jesus_. "I thought we could talk somewhere a little less _spacey_." I thought now would be a bad time to mention we were in a _spaceship_. "Love me a good bit of space, but the TARDIS can be a bit claustrophobic sometimes." She gently pushed me forward. "Go on, you're gonna _love_ it." She said with an encouraging grin.

Sure, just step over the threshold into some inky blackness on an alien spaceship. What could _possibly_ go wrong? Of course, if I said no, she might bring up the Professor again. And then I would be forced to throw myself into the room, _hoping_ that something went wrong. Alright then, I was just going to have to be _less_ of a chicken shit than I normally was. I could handle that.

I stepped forward and the murky cloud pressed against my skin like I was fighting my way through a balloon. It felt _cold_ too, which was weird, since I distinctively remembered the breeze being _warm_. It was…_gross_.

But then I was through, and blind as a baby panda. Or rat. Or kitten. Hell, they were _all_ blind when they were babies, weren't they? Not the point. The point was I couldn't see. I was _blind_.

That was wrong. But when you go from complete blackness to the brightness of the outdoors, it seemed pretty much the same thing. I blinked several times before I could identify even the sky. Yep. There it was. Blue. And that giant ball of white-hot fury in the middle? _That_ was my vision problem.

We were _outside_.

"Are we still on the ship?" I asked. I really had wanted to ask 'What the _hell_' But I didn't think I'd get a direct answer to that. Staring at my feet, I realized I was standing on grass, a _huge_ field of it. It stretched out a few miles before it turned to massive hills in the distance. It was all so very _normal_. Except. Well, we were in space. So it was _not_ normal. A not-normal and a normal, mathematically, made it not-normal…right? Who was I kidding, I _sucked_ at math. Stay in school, kids.

"Yeah." Donna said, kind of ruining my hopes that maybe I had gone on a weird drinking binge, and just _imagined_ the whole alien spaceship drama. Of course, how I ended up in the middle of a sunny field after my bender _would_ have been hard to explain. But not _impossible_.

A warm grassy field, _inside_ of a spaceship. That _was_ impossible to explain. I could feel my headache growing exponentially.

"It's a psychic interface vacillator." Donna started to explain, probably adding to the throbbing in my skull. "It reacts to the electricity from the neurons in your brain by-" She stopped herself. "Actually, it's incredibly boring." Oh, thank _god_. "You ever seen Star Trek? Phasers? Beam me up Scottie?"

"Sure." I said. "Jean Luc Picard is my favorite." I could really do with a smooth talking Starfleet Captain right about now. Not one with a _bow tie_. A _proper_ uniform. Just not red though. Red was always a death sentence.

"It's like the holodeck." Donna nodded. "Except, it's not a program. And it's not manipulating physical matter so much as it's projecting psionic waves-"

"Holodeck. Got it." I put my hand up to stop her. She was right. I was bored already. And not understanding anything after she had said 'except'. "So this is an alien planet? Or a _fake_ alien planet?" I walked forward, letting the grass brush against my fingers. It sure _felt_ real enough. That was kind of reassuring. The breeze blowing through my hair, the sun warming my bare skin. I could _almost_ pretend everything was totally fine.

"Naw." She shook her head, a few steps behind me. "Switzerland. My granddad took us up here when I was little." She looked around and gave a laugh. "I remember being _bored_. Nothing but cows and grass. But," She added with a reluctant nod. "It certainly is beautiful."

"Switzerland?" I asked with a frown. "You're human?" I said a little more excitedly than I probably should have. Hey, it was lonely here in homosapien-ville. I was already grasping at straws, pretending the 'holodeck' was real. Now I was hoping I wasn't the only _lesser_ species on board. God, I was going to need _so_ much therapy when I got back. _If_ I got back. Wasn't _that_ a cheery thought?

"No." She laughed again. She did her best to cover her amusement when she caught my miserable look. Did _everyone_ think humans sucked? Really? Were we the butt of _every_ gag in the universe? No one knew _any_ knock-knock jokes?

"I mean, I _was." _Ah, a ship jumper. "More half-human, half-time lord now. Had a bit of a run in with a complicated time and space…biological meta-crisis." She waved her hand in the air to elaborate. "_Yeah_." She thought better of it. "Complicated."

"Half a time lord?" I asked, unable to mask my interest. I was half crazy person, half evil baddie trying to take control of my body. That was _sort_ of the same thing. Well, the same species. That couldn't just be a coincidence, right?

"Well, yeah." She seemed surprised by my rather aggressive enthusiasm. She should count herself lucky that I wasn't gripping her by the shirt screaming 'I have a time lord in my head! Tell me how to fix this hot mess, _pronto_!' That's not to say I wasn't _very_ close to doing that.

"How?" I think she was starting to sense the crazy in my eyes.

"It was the Doctor's hand. Lopped off when he was regenerating. Still had energy stored up in it. I heard it, sort of…through time…" She made a face as though it were a poor explanation. It was. "And when I touched the hand, it got all tangled up. Gave me his mind, and the hand took my biological data and made him another body. But I couldn't live with that, so he had to wipe my memories." She said wistfully, as though remembering made her sad. Tough. I had my own troubles.

"But you're _fine_ now. How did you fix it?" The answer to all of my problems had been sitting on this _stupid_ ship the whole time. All I had to do was _ask. _I was going to _murder_ the Professor. Or…yell at him. From a safe distance. Still. We were going to have a _talk_.

"I died." She gave a shrug as she frowned. "Just got lucky, I guess."

Okay. So. _Not _a solution then. Super.

"Do you still…fight for control?" I asked. Sure didn't seem like it.

"What?" She looked at me strangely.

"You know, with the Doctor's consciousness?"

"Oh _God_ no. It's not like that at all." She held her head as though by even suggesting it I had given her an aneurism. "I can't even _imagine_ that. That would be _awful_."

Yeah. As a point of interest, it _was_.

"It's just his memories really. And even some of those I can't really access. Kind of like when you drop your keys somewhere and you've forgotten where. _Complicated_. You know?" She asked with a smile.

I nodded, but couldn't return it. It wasn't like my problem at all. Great. Stupid reality and its incessant need to crush _every_ ounce of hope I'd ever had. It hit me like an unpleasant tidal wave, not that tidal waves were ever _pleasant_. This was all _really_ happening. This _wasn't_ a happy field in Switzerland. I wasn't just having a really trippy nightmare.

It was really _real_. And so was the pissy voice in my head that was hell bent on my destruction.

_That_ was really _real._

And so were the Joulex, who didn't seem too keen on letting me live. Then there was the _real_ psychopath with the heart of gold who I was relying on to help me solve all this nonsense. Heart of gold? Who was I kidding? It was aluminum, at _best_.

Boy, when reality punched you in the gut, it also took the time to kick you in the teeth. And spit in your eye. While saying something rude about your mother's moral standards. This _sucked._

"He _is_ different. Isn't he?" Donna finally asked softly, forcing me to drag myself out of the pity party I was throwing. I had streamers. "I mean, the Doctor always thought he _could_ be. I'm not sure he really believed it. After all he's done."

"Beats me." I didn't even bother pretending that I didn't know who she was talking about. I didn't really have the energy for it. "I didn't know him before." He _said_ he was different. But what did that mean? Nothing. People _said_ all sorts of things. Especially people who made a habit of manipulating and lying.

"Well, he's certainly different with _you_." She said, there was that smirk again. I didn't mind so much, because it had just been made _crushingly_ clear to me that this was probably the most _normal_ conversation I was going to have. Possibly, ever again.

"Yeah, I'm sure." I rolled my eyes at her half-heartedly.

"I don't know that I've ever heard him offer to chase off the boogey man for someone." There it was, that laughter dancing in her eyes again. "I mean. He usually _is_ the boogey man." It was possible to appreciate the normalcy of the moment while still wanting to strangle her, right? "Well," She said, seeming to sense my mutinous rage that simmered just below my boiling point. "Let's just _hope_ he's different." She squeezed my shoulder reassuringly. "Be careful though, would you?"

"Careful?" I said a little incredulously. "Because that's worked out for me _really_ well so far." Alright, maybe I was a little bitter. _Totally_ justified.

"You know what I mean." She tweaked my nose like some wizened old aunt. "Be careful about _trusting_ him. You know?"

"Is that some kind of warning?" I asked skeptically. Because it was only _too damn_ _late_. Whatever. Mothers, wizened aunts, hybrid half aliens. They were all the same. Poking their noses in everyone else's business.

"Naw." She shook her head. "Just some friendly advice from an old biddy who's been around the block a few times." She said it with such a self-depreciating grin that I couldn't help but smile back. She had, after all, had a fiancé who sold her out to a giant arachnid, and then died. I supposed she _might_ know a thing or two.

"Well, thanks then." I tried to sound appreciative. I wasn't sure how successful I had been.

"Don't mention it." She let her hand drop from my shoulder. "You know, the Doctor said he'll take you home. If you'd like."

_Home_. That was a tempting offer. Except for the hang up that there might be a pair of pissed off Joulex waiting for me there. Oh, and that whole 'time lord in my head' business. But, still. Tempting to think I could just curl up in bed and it would all vanish like a bad dream. That still left the Professor though. And the fact that I had given up on my hopes where everything that was happening was some crazy hallucination.

"Don't suppose he'll give the Professor a ride home too?" I asked with a growing sense of self-satisfaction. That's right. Leave no man behind. Or alien. Alien-man. Was that how it worked? Whatever, I was pretending to be a _hero_, never mind the _details_.

"Somewhere down the line, maybe." She shrugged. 'Somewhere down the line' sounded more like a 'never' to me. But who was I to judge. "Though I don't suppose he really has a home to go back to." She sounded so sad.

_Red grassy fields, blowing in the breeze._

Where had that thought come from? And why did it seem _familiar_?

"Well, I don't plan on leaving him with you guys." I huffed. At the rate the Professor was making friends on this ship, they'd probably shoot him before morning…whenever morning was. Afternoon. Evening. _Soon_. That was the point I was trying to make.

"I thought not." Donna smirked. _Damn_ her, and _damn_ her smug looks.

"Is it getting warmer?" I asked. Sure, it was another desperate attempt to change the subject. But it was also true. Which made it a valid question. The breeze that had been pleasant moments earlier suddenly seemed stifling, like it was rolling out of an oven.

"Yeah, actually…" Donna turned her attention out toward the fields, shading her eyes with her hand. Everything seemed a lot more…_orangey_ than it had before. I looked up into the sky with a frown. Oh, well that explained it. There was something wrong with the sun. _Suns_.

Oh what the _hell_?

"Donna?" The smell of burning came with the next unpleasantly warm breeze. Warm. Hot. _Blistering_. I started to break out in a sweat when I realized that the grass around us was burning, not only out of sheer terror. Though that was a contributing factor. But _shit._ It was _hot_!

"Well that's not right." Donna commented absently as thick clouds of black smoke started to roll up from the field.

What the _hell_ was I supposed to make out of _that_? The holodeck isn't _right_? Her brain waves aren't _right_? Switzerland is neutral so they shouldn't be on _fire_? The grass shouldn't be flipping _red_. Wait. Red? When had that happened? It wasn't just the flames dancing above the corpses of the grass, it had literally turned red. The whole _world _had turned red. The mountains, which seemed to be _way_ closer than I remembered them, and _taller_ for that matter, were also that unsettling crimson color.

"Donna, what's going on?" I said, starting to feel my sanity drop to an all time low. And that was _really_ saying something. A flicker in the distance caught my eye, it was a _giant_ snow globe.

Okay, it _wasn't_ a snow globe. But it sure as hell _looked_ like one. An enormous glass ball, glittering on the horizon. Inside it, a shining city, just like the wizard of oz. But, more copper than green. Copperopolis. Oh, I _liked_ that. The name. Not the sudden appearance on the flame riddled plains. That was still freaking my shit _out_.

Dorothy, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore. Or Switzerland, for that matter.

There it was again, that familiarity. Like I had seen this before. No. I definitely hadn't.

_Rolling red fields of grass._

No, shut up. I don't know where that had come from, but it definitely wasn't from my head.

"Gallifrey." I whispered. Whoa. When had I made _that_ connection? Was I just making shit _up_?

"You're right." Donna seemed just as shocked as I was. "How did you-"

"EXTERMINATE!" Screamed the saltshaker overhead. It soared past us, apparently in a real hurry to get to Copperopolis. Yeah, I was keeping that.

"Oh bloody _hell_." Donna used a few more expletives to describe how unhappy she was to see the saltshakers.

"This is starting to freak me out," I said, _seriously_ understating my concerns. "So maybe you could stop now." Whatever tranquility I had from that nap, and pretending I was on Earth was gone. This was _definitely_ an alien world. An alien world being redecorated with flames and ash. _Shit_. Just, mega ultra _shit_. "Seriously!" I suggested more firmly.

"I'm not doing this." She shook her head and caught my eyes. For one moment, one gut wrenching moment, she looked _terrified_. Well that's just a whole _new_ level of shit, isn't it? She recovered quickly enough, thank god. "It must be a temporal flux in the readings." If balls-out confident bullshitting could have gotten us out of this mess, she would have pulled it off right then.

I wasn't that lucky.

She turned around and headed back to the door we had come through. I fanned myself with my shirt. Jesus _Christ,_ it was sweltering. My eyes were starting to water with the smoke that was now constantly blowing in my face. If I hadn't needed a shower before, I certainly did now. I smelled like an ashtray. A sweaty _crazy_ ashtray.

"Oh of course. Now it's _shut_." She said irritably. Giving the door a solid kick with her foot. What, she couldn't just turn it _off_? We had to literally _escape_? Apparently, the thick black cloud I had walked through had been one way, because I could clearly see the metal frame where it used to be. In the middle of a grass field. It was a little disconcerting. No more disconcerting than the flames, and the two suns, and Copperopolis. But something to add to the list anyway.

Unfortunately, this clear view allowed me to watch Donna push the button that should have slid the doors open. I also got to see the part where _nothing_ happened.

"Oh don't give me that." She growled at the door, or the button. Possibly both. She took her fist and slammed the switch several more times like an impatient jogger at a crosswalk. The door had other plans. Like staying _shut_. In my experience, the exits on this ship were real _jerks._

The wind gusted powerfully and a thick cloud of smoke and ash were forced into my eyes and lungs. I found myself choking to death, in the _imaginary_ field of fire. With tears streaming down my face, and Donna shouting obscenities at the wall, I looked back over my shoulder.

Copperopolis was _burning_. The glass dome had _shattered_; the saltshakers were raining hellfire down on it and anything that streaked across the sky. Something slithered through the grass nearby, something _invisible_.

"Donna?" I said, taking a step back toward the door where she was working. "I think we should get out of here." The grass moved against the breeze, the stalks parting like there was a mini-Moses somewhere in the reeds, coming toward me. God, I _hoped _it was a mini-Moses.

"Yes." Donna hissed. "I'm _working_ on it." She seemed a little irritable. Understandably so. But she didn't look to see what was bothering me so acutely. Fine. Me and mini-Moses would have a laugh about that later. "_Why_ would I need a sonic screwdriver? The good _Doctor_ will always be around." She seemed to be arguing with herself. Or rehashing an old argument. I wasn't really listening; I was becoming more certain that an adorable mouse in a thick beard and testament robes wasn't coming toward us. It was bigger than that. I just couldn't _see_ it yet.

"Fat lot of _good_ you're doing me now!" She kicked at the door so loudly I glanced over my shoulder to look. She seemed to have hurt her foot. Door stronger than foot. Noted. I looked back.

_That_ was a mistake.

There was one _good_ point. I was right in the fact that it _wasn't_ a mouse. Or Moses.

The _bad_ points were numerous. Such as it was _wrong_. So very _very_ wrong. It was a woman. A rotting corpse. Gray bloated skin peeled back to reveal bleach white bones and decaying muscle tissues. And possibly, internal organs. She was _grinning_ at me, though she didn't have much of a choice, since most of the lower half of her face had rotted, or burned, away. I guess skulls just had a _natural_ affinity for grinning.

I tried to scream, I really did. But it came out as some kind of husky _squeak_.

Move legs. _Back_. BACK YOU IDIOTS! They finally started to obey my simple commands and I took one step, and then several more, as rapidly as I could.

"Donna." My voice was little more than a whisper. Oh, how I _missed_ the Joulex. I would make sweet alien babies with the Joulex if they would show up and save my ass from this _zombie_ thing. The wind blew her long red cloak away from her body. Whatever clothing she had been wearing had largely been burned away, tattered scraps were all that remained. It looked like she had been walking through the fires themselves, and possibly, shards of _glass_.

Dear. _God. Why_ was she still coming toward me?

"Gallifrey burns." She took several more halting steps in my direction. Her voice was whispery thin and I could see why, she was breathing through a jagged hole in her _throat_.

"What?" Donna finally turned toward me, realizing something was off. Possibly, because I had finally gotten close enough to latch onto her shoulder and was crushing it with all the strength my fingers contained. Or, it could be because there was a _dead woman marching toward us_. So, there were options.

"Oh _blimey_." She said, all of her air coming out in one shuddering breath. I was in complete agreement. You know, if I was still capable of speaking. I stepped back, closer to the center of the door. Away from both Donna, and the…_thing_. She only seemed to have eyes for me though. Of _course_ she did. Well. _Eye_. The other one was... No. Let's not get into that. There was nothing _in_ my stomach to retch up, but I'm not sure my gag reflex cared any more.

"It's not real, Fitz." Donna said, interrupting my dry heave. "It's not _real_. Remember? Holodeck? Switzerland?"

Oh, sure. No one has _ever_ died in virtual reality. I'm sure the holodeck never killed any of those red suited idiots from Star Trek either. Nope. I felt _super_ safe right now. Of course, instead of any _actual_ response, I just did that weird squeak thing again. I suppose this kind of panic was different from my hysterical laughter kind. Something to keep in mind. If I, you know. _Lived_.

My stumbling backward had finally led me to the metal of the door. The still firmly _shut_ door.

"Gallifrey _burns_." She tilted her head sideways at me, her throat and the muscles inside of it stretching out in a _very _visible way.

"I _heard_." There! A voice of my own! I was still pressing my back harder and harder into the door behind me. Convinced that maybe by sheer force the pressurized metal might pop open. Or maybe I just didn't have any other option, since the gap between me and the _dead_ woman was only growing smaller. "Not _real_." I whispered. That was the trouble, I hadn't been _breathing_ before. Glad we got that sorted.

"But just in case." Donna's voice had that kind of alarm in it that I _never_ wanted to hear from an authority figure. Especially not if I was relying on them to make everything ALL BETTER. I looked over to see her tearing at the button on the wall, exposing the wires. Why had I left her side? She had some kind of zombie _repellent_. I saw the wires spark as she twisted them together. She had better be a god damn hot wiring door _expert_. Maybe that was something they taught in time lord scouts.

But my eyes were drawn back to that horror in front of me, we were barely a step apart.

_Not real._

I could _smell_ her, even over the choking smoke. If I pressed any harder against my shoulder blades, they would shatter. Still, that was at least an inch of space I could put between her and me. She reached out with a hand, muscles and tendons showed through her frayed skin.

_Totally _not_ real._

Her nails were missing too, leaving the tips of her fingers as bloody stumps. And they were reaching toward my face.

Oh, fuck _this_!

I tore my gaze away from her and threw myself at the door. Slamming my fists against the metal surface, which was now _scorching_, just like everything else in this stupid hellish room.

"Not real! Not real!" I was screaming. It was my mantra. Or at least, I thought that's what I was screaming. I wasn't sure I was saying anything intelligible at all. Just screaming and kicking and pounding as loud and as hard as I could. How long before she reached me? How long before I had her dead rotting hands curling around my throat and choking the life out of me? As her fingers brushed against my neck I took my screaming to a _whole_ new level, I reached octaves I hadn't used since I was nine. And spouted curses I didn't even remember _knowing_.

"_Gallifrey burns!" _She screamed just as loud, even with her ragged voice box. Didn't she know anything _less _creepy to say? Like 'Haha. Got you good. You should have seen the look on your face?'

"It's alright!" Donna shouted somewhere nearby, but I could feel the woman's fingers latch onto my shoulder. The rotten flesh of her fingers gave way to the bone beneath and I felt them cutting jagged marks into my skin as she tried to drag be back into her arms. My brain turned to liquid. My last cognitive thought was that this 'figment of imagination' was going to murder the _shit_ out of me. And I had to say, I was _not_ pleased.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Sorry, spoilers! Fitz dies! Bwahahaha.**

**No. I'm kidding.**

**Or am I?**

**Yes. I am. Or...Alright, actually, I just wanted to ask if anyone had some feedback on the angsty bits (even you stealthy ninja readers) because I could certainly use some. I always feel like I'm struggling with it. Thanks for reading! Oh, and as a point of interest I got my Doctor/Master history from _The Dark Path _a Who novel. (no, I haven't read it. But you know. synopsis.)  
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><p>"<em>He's haunted by something he cannot define. Bowel shaking earthquakes of doubt and remorse, assail him, impale him with monster truck force."<em>

"Ah, so now the _truth_ comes out." The Professor smirked as the door opened once more, revealing the Doctor standing on the other side. He allowed a small smile to pull at his lips as he walked into the room and pulled up a metal chair that had placed itself conveniently nearby with his arrival. "I'm to have a _scolding_ from the Doctor. Donna just came by to get Fitz out of the way."

"Actually." The Doctor raised a pointed finger. "Donna _did_ want to have a chat with Fitz. Seems to think _you're_ a bad influence." The Doctor shrugged and sat down on the gray chair opposite from where the Professor still sat.

"Well then, I guess she's got me figured out, hasn't she?" He rolled his eyes. It wasn't as if he hadn't _expected_ it, but he just assumed the Doctor had warned Fitz off enough when he had his own little chat with her. Clearly, Donna felt it was important to really drive the point home.

"I'm not so sure." The Doctor watched him carefully, one arm crossed over his chest while the other supported his chin.

"Oh?" The Professor said, completely unsurprised. "The _Doctor_ thinks I have some redeemable quality left? There's a _shocker_." There he was, trying to aggravate the man again. His best and only defense. He couldn't let that shield drop; he was afraid what the Doctor would find if he did. But hadn't he said he would go to the Doctor for _help_? He had promised himself that, for Fitz's sake. Still, it irked him to ask the _Doctor_ for assistance.

"Always loved a good underdog." The Doctor smiled wryly. "And the cartoon. The cartoon was lovely. Always flying off, saving Sweet Polly Purebred." He smiled; the man had an annoying soft spot for humans and their culture. _Especially_ television. The thought made him sick. "Never seen it?" The Doctor searched for some recognition. "No, I suppose not. Too busy being Prime Minister. And then, you know. Dying." He shrugged with his hands. "Everyone gets busy. I understand."

"Is there a point to all this?" The Professor didn't need to try to sound bored. He was._ Immensely_.

"Yes," The Doctor nodded. "Thank you. Got a bit off track there. Actually. Something interesting happened to me. Just a bit ago. You see. I brought you back _here_," He pointed to the room that surrounded them, as though it needed clarifying. "And went off to do, you know, time lordy _things_." He waved his hands in the air dismissively. "And the strangest thing happened. Someone was _dreaming_." The way he said the word and leveled his gaze suddenly very seriously on the Professor had him worried. "Would you like to know what they were dreaming _about_?"

"I suppose you're going to tell me anyway." The Professor continued to be curt, but he had the sinking feeling that he knew _exactly_ what the dream had been about.

"It was _quite_ unusual. They were dreaming about _Gallifrey_." The Doctor watched him, looking for any sign of a reaction. He wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. "Isn't that interesting?"

"Yes." He said, realizing his throat was dry. The sneer on his face was starting to falter. The Professor knew who was the cause, but he didn't know _why_. Did it have something to do with Rassilon? While human brain waves could make themselves known in a multitude of obnoxious ways; both he and the Doctor were more than capable of blocking them. And _dreaming_ shouldn't have been anywhere near powerful enough to gain his attention.

"Why does she know about Gallifrey?" The Doctor's voice was dangerously low now. So he _had_ traced it back to the source. Well, of course he had. If someone were broadcasting images of his home, he would have been interested too. But he hadn't infiltrated her mind far enough to realize it had been the Professor, so that meant he probably still didn't know about the time lord that resided within her. Good. That was very good.

"She doesn't." He answered truthfully, without any of his usual attitude.

"Who _is_ she?" His sharp eyes watched him like a hawk. He was angry, and if was angry, he was alarmed. He thought the Professor was deliberately hiding something from him. Which was completely true. But he seemed to think what he was hiding was Fitz's and his own intent to harm them. He was wrong on that account. But if he thought that way, he would investigate. And then he would find that Fitz was a danger to them all.

"She's no one, Doctor. I've already told you." He sighed impatiently.

"Oh, sure. She's a nobody human that just happens to dream about _Gallifrey_. Seriously?" The Doctor scorned him with a mild look. There he was, the oncoming storm. The man who had destroyed Gallifrey to save the universe. He needed to be _very_ careful now.

"It wasn't her dream." He finally admitted gruffly. That caught the Doctor by surprise, the anger simmered and then faded. "She wasn't dreaming of Gallifrey. I was."

"_You_ were?" He blinked several times, trying to make sense of what he had just heard. This was it, the mighty had fallen. He was asking the Doctor to help. It was still difficult to convince himself to _actually_ do it.

"Doctor." He started, catching the confused time lord's eyes with his own. He had said he would get her help, and he had _meant _it. "There's something _wrong_ with Fitz." What could he say that was general enough that he could be convinced to help, but not specific enough that the Doctor would guess at the truth. Or at least become suspicious enough that he would investigate. And if he investigated, he would _know_. And then Fitz wouldn't be safe at all.

"She's suffering from hallucinations. Rather severe ones. Her run in with the Joulex triggered it." He shook his head, so far, so good. "It doesn't seem to be a normal lesion on her brain. It's extraterrestrial." That was all somewhat true. All of her troubles had started with the Joulex, and the time lord was definitely not from Earth.

The Doctor leaned back in the chair, regarding the Professor in a calculated way. "So…" He said, tapping his forefingers together. "You linked with her mind?" His eyebrows were set almost in a frown. It was crude, and he was certain the Doctor would never approve of such things. That was too bad; he wasn't really looking for the man's approval.

"Yes. So she could sleep."

The frown faded from his face somewhat, but he still looked serious. "Fair enough." He nodded, "So then what is it, if it's not _normal_?"

"I'm not entirely sure." The Professor shrugged, a lie. "It seems to be connected to her limbic system through some stronger psychic interface. I don't know if it was put there deliberately, or by accident." Coincidence was more likely the explanation, but then, the Doctor didn't believe in coincidences. "I don't know enough about human physiology to know how to remove it, but it doesn't look like it can be done in 21st century earth." There, the idea was planted. They needed a hospital.

"Oh, I'm a _wiz_ at humans. Taught ole Henry Gray everything he knows. In _fact_," The Doctor said with a frown. "I wrote more than half of that stupid book of his while he was out _drinking_. Said it was for _research_ purposes. _Anatomists_." He muttered mutinously. "Come on. Let's go have a look." The Doctor smiled, standing from the chair.

"No!" The Professor said a little more urgently than maybe he should have. The moment the Doctor touched his mind against hers he would know. Or at the very least suspect that there was _too_ much time lord in her mind, even if Rassilon was well hidden. Who was to say that he wouldn't try to take some advantage over the Doctor if he could? Launching himself into another of his kind. Rassilon was already a force to be reckoned with within Fitz's feeble human body. How much worse would it be if he took control of a fully functional thousand-year-old time lord?

"Why not?" The Doctor's eyes narrowed suspiciously. And why shouldn't he be? He was only being lied to.

"She…" He struggled. Oh, it had always been _much_ easier to lie when all he had wanted to do was kill and control. It was more difficult now, so many of his thoughts crowding for attention. Difficult, yes, but not _impossible_. He still thought he knew the Doctor well enough to know which strings to pull. "She told me this in confidence. She thinks she's going mad."

That suspicious look was still there, but it was more calculating now. "You…don't want to betray her _trust_?" The Doctor asked with a raised eyebrow, almost allowing a smirk to pull at his lips. As though the thought of 'trust' and the 'Professor' together was a little too much for him to resist laughing about.

"No." That was true, but not for the reasons the Doctor suspected. Still, very much the truth, and that was what had probably sold him. The one emotion he could never quite mimic believably. Honesty. The Doctor stood straighter and then let out a long sigh. Apparently coming to a decision.

"I'm going to regret this." He muttered to himself as he crossed the room pulling the sonic out of his tweed coat. He pointed it toward the cuffs that were still linked around the Professor's wrists and they snapped open. The Professor stared down at them for a long moment, confused as to what exactly had happened. A second later, the Doctor had silver band slapped around his wrist, the seam of it burning bright gold for a moment before blending seamlessly with the rest of it. There appeared to be no way to remove it.

"It's not that I don't trust you." The Doctor smiled, plucking the cuffs from him and stuffing them into his coat pocket. "It's that I don't trust you."

"That doesn't surprise me." The Professor scoffed at him.

"Well." The Doctor shrugged, pressing his lips together. "It's a start."

"So, is this my leash?" The Professor lifted his arm to inspect the band, it was rather plain, but he thought he recognized some of the glyphs etched into it. It was certainly more than just a decoration.

"Yes. But don't think of it as a leash. Think of it as _freedom._ Just…so long as you don't decide to destroy anything, or anyone." The Doctor shrugged. "Otherwise a stasis field will activate and we'll have to find you a nice _cell_ to think of as _freedom_. I imagine that'll be more of a stretch." He looked carefully at the Professor. "Think of it as a second chance." He said, eerily echoing the words he had spoken on Gallifrey, the day their planet had burned.

"So, a leash?" The Professor quipped.

"Yes." The Doctor muttered. "It's a _leash_." He seemed disappointed in the over simplification. "You're just lucky I didn't decide on Jack's 'leash'." He stuffed the sonic screwdriver back into his pocket. The bracelet wasn't a danger. Although it could be, in the future. Second chance or not, he was going to have to disable it. He could worry about that later.

"Oh? And what did Captain Freak have in mind?"

"He suggested a bullet. More specifically, one administered _directly_ to your brain." The Doctor frowned, his eyes weary. "I'm afraid he's still a bit upset about the 'year that never was'. Can't say that I blame him."

"Nor I." The Professor agreed in a gruff tone. He remembered the feeling of power as he had killed Jack, so many times. The morbid fascination in watching him rise again made it such an _interesting_ pastime. He thought he might harness that gift of Jack's, that immortality. If he watched the man die enough times, perhaps he would learn the _secret_. No more regenerations, or near misses. He could live _forever_. He would be a _God_.

Of course, he had learned nothing. And the Doctor had become more of a God than he ever had. All he had learned was that the Captain _was_ a freak of nature. And, apparently, he was still bitter about his captivity aboard the Valiant. Well, he couldn't say that surprised him. What did surprise him, was the remorse he could feel churning in his gut. This _was_ the man who had shot Fitz, so it wasn't a _lot_. But that there was some at _all_ was what struck him as unusual.

"Why not come to me?" The Doctor finally asked him, tearing him from his thoughts. "Why play these games?"

"Because you're the Doctor," He smiled bitterly. "It's always been this way."

"Not always." The Doctor shook his head. "Why can't it be different now?"

_Not always_. No, it _hadn't_ always been like this. He hadn't thought about the time before in a very _very_ long time. There was always so much hate, so much _rage_. And _always_ the drums. But he did remember before. And he remembered _why_ it had changed.

"Do you really not _know_?" The Professor felt back, back to that once small seed of anger, of betrayal. It had transformed into a thing of unreasoning bitterness, and a need to _control. _It had helped him to survive, all those years alone. He fed off of that loathing, and the drums. It sustained him. The eternal hatred of the Doctor. But there was a reason. There was _always_ a reason.

"Ailla…" The Doctor said softly, remembering with a pained look, but unable to meet the Professor's eyes. And that was all the confirmation of the truth he had needed.

"It was never just about _her_." His voice struck out viciously, it was a reaction to the wound that had ripped open within him. He hadn't realized hearing her name again would hurt so violently, after all this time. In the good old days, he would lash out, harm someone, attack the world with his clever mind and sense of cruelty. With that, he would bury the despair deeper and deeper into a dark pit that not even the drums could disturb.

But those urges were gone now, he felt _exposed_. There was nothing and no one to protect him from these memories as they rushed back. The laughter in her warm eyes, her brilliant mind, her soft skin against his own. He closed his eyes with a shudder, feeling that void in him tear sharply.

"I'm sorry she died." The Doctor said in a hushed tone. "I'm sorry you had to find out that way."

The Professor laughed unpleasantly, his scorn the only protection he had left. "Sorry I had to find out she was a _spy_? A _time lord_? Sorry that you were on the council that approved her to _watch_ me?" His teeth were gritted together and he focused his fury filled gaze on the Doctor, who had finally raised his weary eyes to meet his own. "Sorry that you _killed_ her? Sorry that I destroyed a whole _world_ to get her back? _Needlessly_?"

"Yes." The Doctor croaked, so much _pain_ in his eyes. He stepped forward and crouched at the end of the couch, grasping his hands in his own. "Professor. I am so _so _sorry. I couldn't have known how it would end. That you would…" He trailed off.

"Didn't know that I would _care for her?"_ His voice was filled with contempt, but it was getting harder to maintain his hatred. It was so exhausting. It had once made him so _strong_, why did it only seem to be tearing away at him now? Why did it just make him feel _empty_?

"Koschei," The Doctor whispered, shaking his head. His eyes were agonized as he still clenched his hands tightly, afraid that the Professor would pull away from him. "My _friend_. I am so _sorry_."

"You _left_ me." The Professor's voice was suddenly devoid of his fury. "You feared the sickness in me, just like _them_. And you _left me._" He was angry about everything, about how it had all ended. He had every right to be. The council had seen the madness in him; they had declared him a danger. A similar council to the one that had _given_ him the disease. And they had cast him out.

So had the Doctor.

"I was _alone_." He shook his head, unable to stop speaking. "And then I even lost _her_." He took his hands from the Doctor and ran his fingers through his short blond hair, holding his skull as though he were afraid it would shatter.

"I know." The Doctor said, his tired voice betraying his youthful appearance. They sat there in silence for a long moment, neither of them moving. The Professor just stared into the palms of his hands, feeling the weight of all those memories bearing down on him.

"Can you ever forgive me?" The Doctor's voice was gentle. It was a lifeline. The Professor was drowning, had been his whole life; in a sea of agony, hate, and bitter disappointment. Could he let that all go?

"Yes." He whispered, his voice hoarse. He looked up at the Doctor, whose gaze was pointed resolutely at the floor. His floppy overgrown hair fallen across his face. At the sound of the Professor's voice, he looked up, startled. A flicker of hope danced in his old eyes. "Because you always forgave _me_."

The Doctor swallowed once, and then a bittersweet smile began to form on his lips. The weight of all those years seemed to lift away. Not gone, not forgotten, but _lighter_ somehow. He looked into the Doctor's eyes and saw a young Theta, running with him through the red fields of his home. Best friends. He must be getting soft. After a lifetime of solitary existence, he had gained two friends in the same day.

"Thank you." The Doctor said with a grin, pulling the Professor in for an unexpected hug. He returned it, although reluctantly. He was getting soft, he wasn't getting _gooey_. It would be some time before he was interested in _hugging_. But he felt it then, the Doctor's own sense of loneliness. A crushing burden. They were the _last_. And it had been _his_ fault. The forgiveness he was seeking wasn't something the Professor could give him.

It was almost funny to him then, to realize they were both such broken men, but for vastly different reasons. Years of self-sacrifice had rewarded the Doctor with only despair and the loss of those he held dearest. And while the Professor destroyed and brought chaos wherever he went, he couldn't fix that darkness within himself.

They were both alone, mere shadows of the men they could have once been.

A frantic pounding beyond their room interrupted them both. The Doctor stood, finally breaking the embrace he walked toward the door. The Professor was grateful for the distance, the hug was uncomfortable enough, but to see within the Doctor's mind in such a way, that had been _deeply _disturbing. Now, more than ever, he knew he had to protect Fitz's secret. He saw in the Doctor that steadfast dedication to do what was right, no matter the personal cost. He didn't think their renewed friendship would stand up in the face of that.

"Something's wrong." The Professor said, suddenly on his feet. He retained some of the connection he had made with Fitz earlier, without her permission of course. She would just become paranoid about the idea. Humans were nervous like that. But he thought that it would be useful to know of Rassilon's presence. Possibly allowing him to help her before it was too late. But now, that faint connection felt like there was some kind of power surge going through it.

"What? No, I'm sure Donna's just kicking something." The Doctor returned his gaze to the Professor. "_Humans_, honestly. No _respect_ for the TARDIS." He shook his head chidingly. He was back to his old self again, that deep pool of gloom receded into the background, where it was safest.

"No." The Professor's hearts started to beat faster, his concern growing by the second. He knew what was wrong now. "She's afraid." He said, his jaw tight. She was _very_ afraid.

"Donna?" The Doctor looked at him, but realized that, from the look on the Professor's face, he was wrong. "No…Fitz? What have you-?" He stopped himself, deciding the lecture could wait until later. "Is it a hallucination?" He asked, opening the door and exiting the room with haste. The Professor was right on his heels and he didn't even give him a second look as he 'escaped' his cell. Perhaps he really meant it, that he was going to give him a second chance. A chance that the Professor was unwilling to offer in return. He would deal with that unhappy thought later. Right now, he needed to get to Fitz.

"What? No," He answered, trying to reach out to Fitz with his mind. There was nothing that suggested she had lost control, it was just blind _panic_. There was _something_ lingering in her mind that felt like the time lord, but whatever it was, it wasn't fighting her. He was nearly running by the time he recognized the door where her presence felt the strongest. He slammed his hand on the button that should have triggered it to open, but it didn't. It didn't move at all.

He spun on the Doctor who wasn't far behind, his eyes full of fury.

"Open the door!" He commanded. The Doctor gave him a concerned look but pulled the sonic from his pocket, aiming it at the mechanism.

"That's odd…" He trailed off as the pitch rose to higher and higher frequencies, but the door didn't react. "It doesn't seem to be responding." He shook it a few times as though that might sort it out and tried again.

"Fitz?" The Professor pounded his hands on the door, mimicking the sound that was coming from within. "We're coming!" He didn't know if she could hear him, but her fear was nearly palpable this close, it was starting to overwhelm him. He hadn't felt this kind of terror since he had faced the Dalek Empire's army. And he had run that time, run away and hidden himself as a human because that fear had been so strong. It was not a comfortable comparison to make.

"It's jammed." The Doctor scowled, but his concern was also starting to rise. The Professor pressed his ear against the door; it seemed hotter than it should have been. He thought he could hear Fitz screaming.

"_Open the door_!" He roared as he tried to pry them open with his fingers.

"I can't!" The Doctor shouted back irritably. He was going through every setting on the sonic to no avail.

"Use the emergency pressure release valve!"

"There _isn't_ an emergency pressure release valve." The Doctor looked like he was channeling all of his frustration into the screwdriver by slamming it against his palm.

"Of course there is." The Professor growled at him, shoving him back. He pulled open the control panel to reveal a complicated network of wires within. He twisted them out, ignoring the sparks of electricity that hissed at him angrily. "You _never_ read the directions." He muttered as he pushed his hand all the way into the back of the hole, there he found a cool metal key. He twisted it viciously and with a loud hiss, the doors hydraulics released. He stepped back flicking his hand as a stray wire zapped at him.

"Well, _fancy_ that…" The Doctor hunched over, looking at the now thoroughly dismantled control box.

"Perhaps if you had stayed at the _academy_, instead of flying off in your little _box_." The Professor muttered absently. The room within was covered in a thick black fog, completely impenetrable. He could see no sign of Fitz. He had been _certain_ he had heard her pounding on the door. And that fear was still there, still cutting him to the bone.

"See, that's why we make such a good team." The Doctor smirked. A shrill scream interrupted their banter and their attention snapped toward the open door. The Doctor held out his screwdriver, scanning for any kind of reading.

"Fitz!" The Professor called out into the darkness, he took a step forward, he wasn't interested in waiting to hear the all clear. As the Doctor reached out to stop him a blur flew at him faster than he could react. It collided with him, knocking the wind from his lungs. It took him a startled moment to realize it had wrapped its arms around him and buried its face against his chest. "Fitz?" He asked more quietly, thinking he recognized the mess of brown hair below his chin. She smelled powerfully of smoke and she was gibbering something nonsensical, shaking her head.

"Not real. Not real. Not real." She was whispering, she refused to look up, just clinging tightly to the Professor. He realized she was trembling violently and he wrapped his arms around her, trying to calm her shaking. There were four red marks in her neck, as if claws had raked against her pale skin. Donna came stumbling out of the room a moment later, looking white as a sheet.

"What did you _do?_" The Professor snarled at her. If Fitz hadn't still been curled protectively in his arms, he was sure his hands would have been at Donna's throat. She shook her head, unable to speak, but evidently relieved to see Fitz.

"Donna?" The Doctor watched her with concern. "Donna, what happened?"

"I don't know." She gasped finally, the Professor realized that she was covered in what looked like ash, it was layered over her clothing like gray dust. "It was Gallifrey. But…I don't know. Oh, Doctor." She looked to be on the brink of tears. "It was _so _awful." She shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. "It was _real_."

"Donna," The Doctor pulled her into his arms, speaking in low soothing tones. "Donna, of course it wasn't real. It's _okay_. You're okay now." He shushed her

"Not real. Not real." Fitz's frightened whispers chilled the Professor further.

"What's all the shouting about? Did I miss something?" Jack poked his head down the hall with a grin. It faded under the fierce glare of the Professor. "Or not."

"Not real." Whatever it had been, it certainly seemed real. To both of the women. "_Not real_."

"I'm sorry." Donna shook her head looking back at Fitz. Tears streaked down her face now, faint sooty lines visible down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry."

"It's alright Fitz." He said quietly, stroking her hair. "I've got you now. You're _safe_."


	14. Chapter 14

_So save your prayers, for when we're really gonna need'em. Throw out your cares and fly. Wanna go for a ride?"_

So, basically. I've been adopted. I'm the little vagrant human they picked up because it had a broken tail. And _despite _your mother's insistence that the stray _belongs_ to someone, you've already fed it, and washed it, given it a name like Sparkles, or Fluffy, and made it a house. With bunk beds.

Okay, the bunk beds were wicked awesome. I was still _very_ much a child and I had to admit, I was grinning like an idiot when I saw them. The Doctor seemed especially pleased that I liked them. Maybe even aliens were just adult sized kids. Bunk beds. On a _spaceship_! How _cool_ is that? I guess no one had named me Fluffy, or Sparkles. That would just have to wait for the day I became some kind of intergalactic stripper.

I was going to make my mom so _proud_.

But you know the weird part? I was finding that I didn't mind so much. Being the little 'kept' human. Being so far from _home_, and _normal_. Which to me, now meant, pretty much the same thing.

That was a little alarming. My severe lack of concern about going back to _normal_. There _was_ a little voice (one of my own) that was screaming about how totally crazy this was, and I should go back where I belong _right now_. But it was a quiet voice, a _subdued_ one. It's not like I didn't _want_ to go home. Just, maybe, not right away. I mean, I _had_ been bored. And I liked travel. Well, I _thought_ I did, I hadn't done much of it myself. But I had gotten to see Cardiff, and Switzerland, and…_technically_ Gallifrey. Which _had_ been interesting. You know, before the whole _zombie_ incident.

Alright, that had still freaked me out pretty horribly. So horribly, that I don't really remember what happened after I ran screaming out of the room. It was kind of a blur. Apparently, I was in some kind of shock. Go figure. They stuck me in a 'zero' room. Whatever that means. But I fought against it, because they kept shutting the door. I didn't remember that part, but, again. Not really surprising.

Gee whiz, I was trapped in a strange room with undead walkers and you're trying to lock me in _another_ room? And I'm _not_ super jazzed about that? _Crazy_.

But hey. I came out the other end. Woke up fine. Well, relatively. I felt much better, and I wasn't hysterical. I mean, I ate probably three days worth of food. And I took a six hour shower, five of which I spent scrubbing at my shoulder where there were still four red marks dug into my flesh. It kind of looks more like a rash now; I _may_ have been a little overzealous with the shower puff.

But I'm fine! See? Saying it makes it true! Totally fine, super happy camper.

Oh, and. My hair has turned shockingly white.

All of it.

Which is, as far as I know? _Impossible_. But, no matter how many times I screamed that while standing in front of the mirror, it didn't change back. So, apparently, impossible is relative. I looked like an albino. An albino with weird grey eyes. Which would kinda cancel out the whole colorless albino thing. But whatever. As vain as it was, I had _loved _my dark hair_. _I was all retro chic hipster before it was cool. Now I just looked…retro. Like. An _old person_. I was pretty sure 'prematurely aged' wasn't a style that was going to pop up in vogue any time soon. Crap.

All in all. I guess it was pretty weird. Everything. I had _lost _my shit. Completely. Utterly.

And yet. Here I was. Still moving, breathing, doing all the functional day-to-day things. It was like I had found a switch in my brain that said 'Yes, this is totally insane. But you're just going to have to keep it together. So get over yourself'

My inner monologue could be a real _ass_ sometimes.

It was day three, post zombie-pocalypse. The Doctor had thought it would be best to give me some time to recover before shipping me off to a hospital for my…_other_ mental deficiencies. Namely the 'hallucinations' the Professor had invented for me. They were worried that if they took me in now, I'd start raving about dead bodies and burning planets and the nurses would be forced to lock me up; because it would _sound_ crazy. But the fact remained that it _wasn't_ crazy, because it had totally happened.

It should have bothered me that no one knew _why_ or _how_ it had happened. Especially since they all seemed to be leagues away from me as far as being intelligent. I had heard something about galvanic radiation, but who the hell knew what that meant? Out of sight, out of mind. Possibly the _worst_ advice ever, but I was taking it. So, well. It was what it was.

Donna had been really nice to me. Well, _everyone_ had been really nice to me. But Donna was convinced that somehow the whole thing had been her fault. I had my doubts; after all, she didn't seem very excited about being trapped in that room either. But I wasn't going to complain. She had made me pancakes the past two mornings, and she did it pretty well for an English woman. Plus, she had shown me the library.

Oh. The _Library_. God. I _loved_ that place. In a ship filled with spacey weirdness and _so_ _much_ metal, the library felt like a totally different world. The smell of old books and leather was the first thing I noticed about the room. That and the stacks and _stacks_ of books. The walls were lined with shelves, floor to ceiling. And the ceiling went so high, that even on the incredibly sturdy ladders, I was only brave enough to go halfway up. Come on, I had _survived_ phantom living dead. It'd be a waste to end up dying because I was a clumsy idiot. But that was okay, because there were plenty of books I could safely reach, and there were huge overstuffed chairs in every nook and corner of the room that seemed much larger than it looked.

Oh, and there was the swimming pool.

Which, strangely enough, _didn't _smell like chlorine. I wasn't sure if it was because pools on spaceships didn't need chemical balancing, or because the smell of books was so strong it overpowered everything else. Regardless, I stayed _away _from the pool. My clumsy idiot self was just as likely to fall to my death from a ladder as I was to trip over carpet and drop a stack of books into the water. And rule numero uno was that you do _not_ talk about fight club.

But I guess I wanted the one that actually applied to this situation, rule number two. Was that we _do not_ hurt books.

So this was where I was spending my time today, and most days. In the Library. I was reading a book that hadn't been published on Earth. Somehow, still in English. I wasn't going to be bothered about that minor detail. It was a good thriller. Why question it?

My hair fell into my face as I was leaning over to grab my water. Again. Laughing at me in all its _whiteness_. I pulled at a strand and glared as balefully as I could. I was _so_ going to dye it back as soon as I got home. _When_ I got back…_if. _Meh.

"I think it suits you fine." The Professor's voice startled me out of my glaring contest with the hair. Of course, _startled_ wasn't really the right word. I seemed to know he was coming. That's _weird_. Another thought to push under the rug. "Quite fetching." He smirked as he dropped himself into a nearby chair, looking bored.

Did I say I was going to get it dyed? Maybe I could keep it, just, you know, until I got used to it. No need to be _hasty_. After all, how many opportunities was I going to get to have white hair? At least, before I was eighty.

Oh, shut up you rationalizing_ ninny_.

"Really though?" I deflected. I was _really_ good at that. "White hair? On a space traveler? That's so _cliché_." I was determined not to think about the _real_ reason I had suddenly reconsidered changing my hair.

"Sure," The Professor rolled his eyes. "I had forgotten you were so _knowledgeable_ about such things. Being an Earthling." He could have replaced the word Earthling with the words 'moron', 'idiot', or 'pile of vomit' and I think the meaning would have been the same. I remembered then, everyone _was_ being exceptionally nice to me. You know, aside from the Professor. My _hero_.

"I watch movies. I know _things_." I shrugged. Of course, being the sick person I am, I kind of enjoyed his snide banter. Well, maybe _enjoyed_ wasn't the right word. _Appreciated_ might be closer to the truth. When my dad passed away, so many years ago; the thing I remembered most, aside from my mother being in a constant state of tears, were the pitying looks I always got.

Oh the _poor_ girl, she's _so_ young. Look at her, she must be so _sad_. How _tragic_ it must be to lose your father.

I mean, I was sad. Really sad. In fact, I'm getting sad just _thinking_ about it. But having everyone remind me that I was _supposed_ to be sad? That I was some broken thing that used to be a person. But now I could only be a deep well of depression? That was a lot for a eight year old to handle. I got really frustrated, and snide. And maybe that's why I'm such a sarcastic little brat today.

Now I was older, but it felt like the same. I was supposed to be completely freaking out, which I was. Privately. But that's how everyone was _handling_ me. Like I was a delicate human who's brain might suddenly explode if you aren't super _super_ nice to her. Handle with care. _Fragile_. Bring me some bubble wrap!

Actually, the bubble wrap probably would have been fun. Still.

To be fair, it didn't _really_ seem like that with the Doctor. He was…_strange_. To put it politely. But despite his strangeness, and his ramblings about jelly babies and the delicious qualities of custard, he still gave me that look every now and then. That serious one that seemed to be checking how crazy all the alien weirdness was making me.

So the Professor _was_ refreshing, at the very least. And I had the sneaking suspicion that he knew _exactly_ what he was doing. _Or_ he was just as warped as me. But he wasn't tiptoeing around, so that was nice.

"Sure," He said. "I understand that movies have replaced universities, or _any_ type of formal education." He picked up the large atlas I had set aside on the table. It was an atlas of a star, the interior. And it had _oceans_. Oceans of _water_. That weren't burnt up. In a _star_. At that point, it had started to make my brain hurt, so I had to put it down. "The Doctor wants to know if you're going mad yet." He said absently, not looking up from the book. Not sounding remotely interested at all. What a _liar_.

"Oh, I'm sure he'll be the first to know." I said just as casually. If he wanted to know how I was doing, he was going to have to ask me his damn self.

"I doubt that." The Professor said with a snort. He sounded _way_ too confident about that. I was immediately suspicious. Well, actually, I had been suspicious for a few days. See, I have what you _might_ call an 'overactive imagination' or what other people would call 'insanity'. Potato, potahto.

But zero room or not, I should have been having some seriously screwed up nightmares in the form of rotting women babbling about burning planets. But I hadn't. Not _once_ had I dreamed about that. I continued to dream about Gallifrey, in the _least_ threatening way possible. Sometimes I was sketching; sometimes I was running around, I even woke up one time thinking it might be a nice place to visit. Which is just _so_ screwed up.

Now, I was no Sherlock. Or Watson. I'm not sure I would have even qualified to be their housekeeper. But I did remember that these kinds of dreams were the _exact_ same as the one I had the last time I asked the Professor to intervene. I had real doubts that it was just a coincidence. There was also this weird thing that whenever I fell asleep in the library, I always ended up in my room. As though I was mysteriously sleepwalking my way there. Or maybe the ship was…I dunno, _beaming_ me there.

Except last night, I had another dream. I was floating through the TARDIS. And the Professor was there, because he was carrying me.

But that _hadn't _been a dream.

"What did you do?" I asked him, pushing my book aside.

"What?" He glanced up, apparently, my tone had been alarming enough to distract him from the star atlas.

"You've done _something_." I said accusingly. "I'm not having weird dreams. I'm not freaking out like I _should_ be. I seem to _know_ when you're around. What did you _do _to my_ brain?"_

"I haven't done _anything_, I-" He slammed the star book shut, scowling. Good, I haven't seen _that_ face in a while. "Would you rather the nightmares?" Hah. Right there. Proof!

"No! I'd _rather_ know what the hell you're doing. I don't want you worming around in my _head_."

"Is there something in your head you're worried about me knowing?" He asked, annoyed. As though I were _incapable_ of thoughts that should need hiding. Idiot.

"Yes!" I blurted out, oops. That was a little quick. "I don't want you knowing the combination to my high school locker!" Good recovery. "It's my brain and I don't like the idea of you or anyone else being in there!" Of course, if he's already in my brain, he knows I'm lying. God _dammit._

"I'm not in your brain!" There was that brief flash of fury, replaced quickly with something like exasperation. "I mean, it's not like _that_. The dreams are mine, and I'm keeping an eye out for signs of…trouble." He sighed. That said it was 'trouble' of the time lord variety. "I don't know a locker combination, or any other _useless_ information. That's not what I was _doing_." He was still scowling, but he seemed to know that he was in the wrong. Or guilty, at least. Good. That saved me a lot of yelling. Which I still totally felt up for. Kind of.

"Fine." I said. I could save the yelling for another time, when I was sure he was going to irritate me.

"I can stop."

"It's fine." I repeated. I certainly didn't want any dreams about _that_ incident. And if he thought he could help stop me from losing control I was all for it. Still though. Poor form. "Had it _occurred_ to you to just _ask?" _I leveled him with a gaze.

"Yes." He finally answered. "I decided you would have said _no_."

Well. At least he was _honest_. I wasn't really able to appreciate it just then.

"So…you just decided to do it anyway?"

"I thought it was better than _not_ knowing if you were going to lose control." He said flatly, clearly thinking he had the upper ground here. _Wrong_ bucko.

"Well, next time. I'll be sure to send a _memo_." I huffed, burying my face back in the book. Of all the insufferable _jerks _that I had to be _stuck_ with.

"That would be helpful. Thank you." He said in his own snide tone.

"Ah," Interrupted a new voice that _did_ startle me. "Thought I might find you here." The Doctor's cheer mowed right over the tension in the room like a bulldozer. "Love the library, have you seen the pool? It's magnificent." He grinned down at me. "Used to have some Grindylow in there…not _sure_ where they got off to…" He peered around the shelves as though they might be hiding among the books. A comforting thought. I suppose I had the advantage of not knowing what a Grindylow looked like, so I hoped for something like kittens and left it at that.

"Oh well, they'll turn up. Anyway!" He clapped his hands together. "Just got a call from the Pond's. Popping off for a quick visit. Seems they wanted to convey _urgency_." He shrugged. "Dramatic, those two. Something about the Eiffel tower. Not really sure. Just wanted to let you know Donna and me are off. And Jack is in charge."

"Ugh." The Professor muttered, finally looking up from his atlas. "You left Captain Freak in charge?"

"Yes. Between you and him, he seemed the less likely candidate to take off with the ship and enslave an entire civilization." The Doctor gave him a mild look. "It was a _real_ toss up."

"Fair point." The Professor shrugged. They also seemed to be getting along better than they had been. Of course, maybe with everyone pretending to be nice to me, it had spread like a fungus. Though, I didn't really see the Professor as the kind of guy who _pretended_ to be anything but obnoxious. He was _real_ good at that.

"The Eiffel tower? Like, the one in Paris?" I asked. I had always wanted to go to Paris. Or really, _anywhere_. But Paris seemed like it should be on my 'must see' list.

"Not 'like' the one in Paris. No. It _is_ the one in Paris." The Doctor said with a smirk. Great, so we were all smart asses on this boat. That won't get old at _all_. "But unfortunately, I'm going to need you to stay _in_ the TARDIS. Can't have you wandering off and having an…_episode_." He finished tactfully. Sure, don't let the crazy lady out, she'll _offend_ the French.

"Alright," I said a little miffed. But well, I was already angry at the Professor. I didn't know if I could juggle two feuds at once.

"Great. Excellent. Back in a bit. We'll get you to Sigma Five straight away. It's a fabulous hospital _slash _spa, _slash_…well, it doesn't matter. You'll love it. And I've been reassured by several sources that the Sisters of Plenitude are _not_ involved." He looked almost angry for a moment; he noticed my concern and waved his hand in the air dismissively. "Nothing to worry about. Had a bit of a run in, they're a bit screwed up in the head…" His voice trailed away as he looked back down at me. Perhaps just remembering that there were others nearby who might be screwed up in the head. I did my best not to laugh. "Right! So, off for a visit." He turned and pointed very sternly at the Professor. "Behave."

"Yes, _mother_." The Professor had already returned his attention to the book.

I crossed my arms and fixed the back of the Doctor's tweed jacket with an annoyed glare. Apparently, I _did_ have the energy for two feuds.

"I've never _been_ to Paris." I muttered. The Professor looked over his shoulder to where the Doctor had vanished and then looked back to me.

"Would you like to?" He asked with a mischievous smirk. I had to grin, despite him being a jerk; sometimes the bad boys were just more _fun_.


	15. Chapter 15

"_It's a very dangerous thing to do exactly what you want...Because you cannot know yourself or what you'd really do..."_

"_Pleeeease_?" Fitz had draped her hand across Jack's arm, looking up at him and pleading with her eyes.

He had to admit, she seemed to be _very_ good at what she was doing. Captain Jack 'anything that moves' Harkness appeared to be falling for it. Of course, he supposed it wasn't really falling for it, so much as expecting to be compensated at some point.

"I've never been to France! Or out of the states!" She bumped her shoulder into Jack's playfully and he saw a grin spread across the man's face as he continued to pretend to monitor the TARDIS console, as though that bumbling _idiot_ had any idea of what he was doing.

"The Doctor said we should stay on the TARDIS." Jack was still using his authoritative voice, but its determination was fading rapidly. "I'm inclined to _agree_ with him." His seriousness didn't seem to reach his eyes either, his gaze had dropped from the monitor and was now smiling down at Fitz.

The Professor couldn't quite explain why this was all irritating him so much. Especially since it had been his own idea. It had been easy to come up with. Of _course_ Jack could be swayed by the batting eyelashes of a pretty girl, _or_ handsome man. Hell, if he hadn't still hated _him_ so much, the Professor could have probably pulled it off. Although Fitz had seemed awfully eager to try it out on Jack.

"_Pretty_ please? Just the Eiffel tower? It's _so_ romantic." She was laying it on extra thick; he would have laughed at how obvious she was being if he wasn't so annoyed. Jack didn't seem to care that this was most definitely _not_ the sarcastic Fitz her knew her to be. "Really, I've never been _anywhere_. _And_ if you remember," She added, poking him in the chest. "I was _shot_ the other day. I could have _died_. And I would have never seen the Eiffel tower. Isn't that sad?" She used just the right amount of coy teasing and guilt to convince the man. The Professor could practically _see_ Jack's resolve crumbling to pieces.

Jack shook his head, looking to the ceiling, but the smirk never left his face. "Oh, he's gonna _kill_ me." He finally muttered, holding the bridge of his nose.

"Yay!" Fitz said with a huge grin, jumping a little." Thank you! This is going to be _awesome_!" He wondered if there was anything he could do that would have made her that genuinely excited, but he buried that line of thinking away, his thoughts had the annoying habit of _wandering_ when he allowed them to.

"But _just_ the Eiffel tower." Jack said warningly, with a finger pointed sternly in her face.

"And a croissant?" She asked with a raised eyebrow. He wasn't sure if she really wanted one that desperately, or if she was just _showing off_.

"You're real trouble." Jack said with a sigh.

"That's my middle name." She grinned. That didn't surprise the Professor in the _least_. Jack had _no_ idea.

"And _you're_ coming with us." Jack's attention turned to where the Professor was sitting in the jump seat.

"Why? Did you two need a chaperon?" He asked snidely, earning a sharp look from Fitz. Of course he was coming with, the last thing he needed was Fitz having an episode somewhere where he couldn't help her. And Jack didn't know it, but this probably would have been the _only_ time he could have left him in the TARDIS and he wouldn't have stolen it.

"Real funny." Jack sneered at him. "Just remember, the Doctor's not the only one with control to your little bracelet." Jack leveled his gaze at him, suggesting that it was already taking most of his will power not to enact the device. Fitz looked to him with a frown, unaware of what they were talking about. But then Jack was smiling at her, grabbing her attention once more. "And we're _square_ on the shooting thing, right?"

"We'll see." She grinned and kissed his cheek teasingly. The Professor felt his hands balling into fists where they crossed over his chest.

"I'll just grab my coat." Jack watched Fitz as she headed toward the door, and then gave the Professor a smug look before disappearing down the hall.

"Overdoing it a bit?" He glared as Fitz leaned against the railing nearby, looking quite pleased with herself.

"_Please_," She waved her hand dismissively with a snort. "Worked, didn't it?"

"Maybe it's working a little _too_ well. Or was that your plan all along?"

She didn't seem amused by the comment; in fact, she looked like she wanted to hit him. But that faded and she got a self-satisfied smirk on her face as she watched the Professor's scowl.

"Oh, is _that_ what this is about?" She feigned an expression of shock. "Are you _jealous_?" She walked over to him and put her hands on his shoulders, now her lips were set in a pouting frown. "Professor, if you wanted me to bat my lashes at you, all you had to do was ask." She finished with an exaggerated wink.

"Don't be stupid." He shrugged out of her grasp and stood from the chair. The amusement in her eyes faded and now she looked properly annoyed with him. That was nothing _new_, of course.

"_Fine_, captain _humorless_. Next time you can just stay on the boat." She crossed her arms over her chest and glowered at him. He sighed; he hadn't really meant to irritate her. How did he _always_ end up doing that? He opened his mouth to form some kind of apology when he saw Jack returning. He was whistling a pleasant tune while he stuffed his arms into his jacket sleeves. That reminded him of why _he_ was angry, and he shut his mouth resolutely.

"Ladies first." Jack said with a smile as he passed Fitz, who had _miraculously_ recovered her good mood in order to grin as he opened the door. She blew him a kiss as she stepped out of the TARDIS, causing the Professor to roll his eyes. Now he was certain she was doing it _explicitly_ to annoy him. "Gentlemen too." Jack said, turning to him. "Don't need you locking the door and leaving us stranded." His smile had faded as soon as Fitz had exited, leaving only a sharp glare for the Professor. Funny how _paranoid_ some people got just because you had killed them a few times.

"Wouldn't dream of it." The Professor said with a sneer as he headed out the door, Jack didn't need to know he was being _honest_.

"Oh wow…" Fitz was standing several feet from the door, but she wasn't looking at the park they had landed in, she was staring back at the blue box in shock. She pushed past the Professor, ducking her head back into the doorway. "It's bigger…that's weird." She stepped back and stared at the TARDIS, awestruck. "This is _really_ weird."

"Bigger on the inside." Jack said with a grin, pulling the door shut behind him. "You get used to it." He reassured her as he put his arm over her shoulder. The Professor seethed quietly as he followed. "Now. I believe the Eiffel tower is this way." Jack spun them both around to the back of the TARDIS where a gravel path led out of the park. The trees obscured the sky for the most part, but he thought he could just see the clear lawns up ahead that surrounded the monument.

"Giant ugly iron tower. Can't miss it." The Professor muttered as he followed them, gaining another glare from Fitz.

"I'm _so_ excited." She said overenthusiastically, refusing to be bothered by his snide remarks. Jack started to ramble out dull facts about the construction of the tower; the Professor wasn't interested in being _bored_ to death. Instead, he glared at the hand that still lingered on Fitz's shoulder.

Jack was mercifully interrupted as his pocket started to chirp in an obnoxious way. "That's weird." He muttered as he dug into his coat to pull out a mobile, staring at the screen. The Professor noticed with a grin that he had removed his arm. "SOS from Torchwood…" Jack's blank face turned to a serious frown. He strode off and started dialing the phone, apparently to find out what had caused the message. Fitz continued to walk toward the edge of the trees and the Professor followed, while still keeping an eye on Jack.

"Um-" Her tone caught the Professor's full attention and he looked away from Jack's nervous pacing. "Is it supposed to be doing _that_?" He walked up next to her and followed her gaze, though he hadn't really needed to, it was obvious what she was looking at.

Dark clouds swirled around the top of the Eiffel tower, and from those clouds, bolts of electricity tore jagged lines through the air, striking the tower. The whole thing was lit up as if it was aflame with cold blue fire. Rain came streaking down, but only around the tower, the ground near them was relatively dry.

"No." He shook his head, that kind of power could only mean the Joulex. "We should probably find the Doctor." He said, starting to turn back toward Jack. As much as he didn't like the man, he was going to need his help to keep Fitz out of trouble. And to get the Doctor out of whatever mess he had tangled himself in.

"Guess I'm not getting a croissant." Fitz grumbled, her eyes still transfixed on the tower. It was nice to know she still had her priorities straight.

"Oi!" A Scottish voice called from behind them in a threatening way. "What do you two know about the Doctor?" The Professor turned to see a red haired woman standing just off the path, holding a heavy looking branch like a weapon. Another figure stood nearby, also armed with a branch, a rather pathetic looking one. Both the branch, and the brown shaggy haired man.

"That depends on who's asking." The Professor said, not impressed with either of them. Exactly the kind of hopeless looking vagabonds that the Doctor would keep as company.

"This place has been quarantined for hours." The woman glared, jabbing her branch in his direction. "How did _you_ get here?" She didn't seem the least bit intimidated by him, that was too bad, sometimes he missed that quality in himself.

"We flew." He rolled his eyes as Fitz wandered closer to his side.

"Well," Jack interrupted their standoff. Clueless to what was happening. "No one picked up, and now my phone's dead-" He stopped as he did finally look up. "Why, hello there." His voice had changed dramatically. He stepped forward, saluting the young woman, and winked. "I'm Captain Jack Harkness, and who might you be?"

"Er…well-" She was caught off guard by his demeanor and wasn't sure if she should point her stick at the man who was giving her his most charming smile.

"Married." The man offered, waving to draw Jack's attention. "Married to _me_. I'm Rory. By the way."

"Oh stop it, it's fine." She rolled her eyes and reluctantly set down her branch. "I'm Amy. And who are you lot?" Amy returned her gaze to where Fitz and the Professor still stood.

"That's the Professor, and that's Fitz." Jack introduced them with that cheeky grin still on his face. Not dissuaded in the least by Rory's presence.

"The Professor? As in, another one of those time lords with a silly name instead of a proper one?" Amy's eyes narrowed at him.

"Indeed." The Professor couldn't say he was exactly _pleased_ with her comparison.

"Oh, then…you best get out of here. You said you flew? As in, the TARDIS? You weren't just having a laugh? Cause we should get back there, _now_." Amy's eyes darted through the trees nervously.

"So you're the Pond's then? The ones who called?" Jack asked.

"The William's." Rory corrected, but received a glare from his wife. "Well, the William's-Pond's…we're…we're working on it."

"Yeah, that's us. Are _you_ his companions?" Amy asked a little skeptically, earning a snort from the Professor.

"Not exactly." Jack answered, "Where _is_ the Doctor?" Donna didn't seem to be anywhere nearby either.

"Well, that's the thing. They sorta got…caught." Amy looked sheepish.

"Caught by _what_ exactly?" The Professor glared. Just like the Doctor to get himself captured when there were more important things to be doing. If the Joulex had caught them, these two should be _dead_. There shouldn't have been any reason to let them escape while capturing the time lords.

"I dunno _exactly_." Amy scowled at his tone. "It was like a metal…ball. Thingy. It dropped out of the sky and it's been scanning people."

"Scanning?" Jack seemed to find that suspicious as well.

"Yeah, red blinking light. Mechanical noises. You know, _scanning_." Rory added helpfully.

"Yes, _thank you_." The Professor glowered at him. "I think we're all familiar with the concept. But why isn't the Doctor still _with_ you?" His patience was starting to wear very thin.

"Well, when it scanned us, it just said we were human. Tagged us too," She held up her hand where a blue dot had stained the skin of her palm. "But when it got to the Doctor and Donna, it identified them as time lords. And then, well. They disappeared. He said to get back to the TARDIS. That he'd come up with a plan."

"Oh, I _really_ doubt that." The Professor muttered as he looked at the Eiffel tower again. The pieces started to fall together now. The Joulex had followed Fitz, or the necklace anyway, but her escape didn't change the fact that they still needed the energy, they were just going to have to get it from somewhere else. "We've got maybe thirty minutes."

"Thirty minutes until _what_?" Jack looked properly concerned now. "Who's got the Doctor?"

"Oh you know," The Professor shrugged. "The Joulex." Fitz visibly jerked and Jack seemed to recognize the name as well.

"What have they got planned _Professor_?" Jack's tone suggested that he wasn't in the mood for any of his games. Which was just as well, because he wasn't really in the mood for playing them.

"Well, with Torchwood's communication down, I'd wager this isn't just a _local_ problem. Something's made the Joulex desperate. Desperate enough to attack people on the street." He looked meaningfully at Fitz. "When that didn't work, they went to plan B. They're going to drain this whole planet of its energy."

Everyone stood there silently for a moment, unable to comprehend the idea.

"They can do that?" Fitz asked with a disbelieving frown. "Drain a _planet_?"

"Well, why take the Doctor then?" Amy seemed to have pushed the worrying thought to the side, more focused on what she could understand. "If they've got a whole big planet to drain, why'd they take him and Donna?"

"A planet is nice. When you're recharging a ship, a time lord is better." He didn't feel it was necessary to explain that time lord's were better absorbed by a more _personal_ touch from the Joulex.

"A time lord has as much energy as a _planet_?" Rory asked. Fitz had a rather alarmed look on her face, one that suggested she was remembering what _exactly_ was floating around in her own mind.

"All of time and space. The vortex?" Jack shrugged. "Wouldn't surprise me."

"Well, that does explain, you know, all the…_bouncing around_." Rory frowned thoughtfully, but it only earned him a swift punch to the shoulder from Amy.

"And that's not a cataloging technique." The Professor pointed to Amy's hand.

"What is it then?" She was already anticipating an unpleasant answer.

"It's a conduit." He said as Amy stared down at her hand. "As soon as they start up their ship, it's going to turn on, and then you, and every other human who's been tagged, are going to be drained. Dead."

"Oh. You had me worried there for a second." Rory said with a weak smile.

"We need to get into that tower." The Professor pointed toward the monument. "There's bound to be a link to the ship from there."

"What? The Doctor said to go to the TARDIS. Not to get ourselves _electrocuted_ on France's biggest lightning rod!" Rory didn't seem keen on the idea of getting any closer to the black flickering clouds. "The Doctor _said_ he had a plan."

"Rory," Amy turned to him with a sigh. "When, in the history of our travels, have you ever known the Doctor to have a _plan_?" Rory opened his mouth to respond but then closed it just as quickly.

"Good point." He finally nodded.

"Alright then, what do you need us to do?" Amy turned to the Professor.

"_You_ should get to the TARDIS. Fitz, you can take them there. The conduits shouldn't be able to function inside the ship. If…" He shrugged, indicating there was a possibility that they wouldn't be successful. He was used to _causing_ destruction, not being the _solution_. He wasn't sure if he'd be any good at it yet.

"Hang on, I'm not running off to hide." Fitz glowered at him, just what he needed, _another_ argument with her.

"Nor am I!" Amy seemed equally hostile to the idea.

"_Listen-_" He hissed at them both, but Jack's voice cut him off.

"Um. Not to worry anyone…"

"_HUMAN._" A mechanical voice droned behind them. The Professor snapped his head around to see Jack standing under a beam of red light. A gray metal globe was hovering above him.

"No no no…" Jack backed away, but without warning, the machine shot out a tiny dot at his warding hands. "Dammit!" He cursed as he looked at his palm. The blue color had already spread. The machine drifted over to Amy and Rory, who shrunk together.

"You've already bloody tagged me!" Amy shouted at it irritably.

"_HUMAN_. _LINKED_." Apparently, the droid agreed with her, as no dart came flying out.

"Have any _bright_ ideas?" Fitz asked him as they both started to back away.

"My bright idea involved the element of surprise, so, _no_." He scowled at her. But a thought occurred to him. Their machines were simple enough, probably easy to confuse. The Joulex were not known for their engineering skill. If he could just manipulate his bio signature enough to put off the scanner, that would at least buy them some time. That meant blood, maybe _Jack's_ blood…or…

"Kiss me." He said, turning to Fitz as the mechanical voice confirmed Rory was also human, and linked.

"_What_?" She tore her eyes from the machine long enough to glare at him incredulously. "No!" He glanced at the machine that was already closing the distance. He didn't have the time to explain, and it was the only idea he had. Before she could back away from him, he grabbed her arm and pulled her close. It wasn't like her being angry with him was anything_ new_, he reassured himself, as he held the back of her head and crushed his lips against hers.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Thank you to all my awesome reviewers! You are made of sugar and spice and all sorts of generally pleasant things! It's much appreciated!**

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><p>"<em>We call them fools, who have to dance within the flame, who chance the sorrow and the shame, that always come with getting burned"<em>

I…that was. Er…

That'll be my brain, in its liquid form. Probably all over the floor. But I knew I was still alive, because my heart was pounding in my chest, and my lips felt like they were burning. Well, so did the _rest_ of me. It took me a moment to realize the Professor had finally stopped and was staring down at me with a pleased grin on his face.

"There," He said hoarsely. His amber eyes had that predatory look again, except it _wasn't _that look, the one that I was used to being afraid of. Well. Actually, I was afraid of this one too. But it was _different_. Different and it was _not_ helping my heart rate slow back down. "That wasn't so _bad_, was it?" He sounded so…_smug_.

Why?

Oh. Oh, that's right. Probably because I had kissed him _back_. Rather enthusiastically. Of course. What the _hell_ had possessed me to do _that_? It was the time lord, right? Yep. Absolutely. I was going to blame it on the mental breakdown I was having. Not my own personal completely screwed up feelings. That's _not_ what this was.

Were my glasses steaming up?

I was pretty sure I could recover better if he would just take a step back. Why was he still so close? And why was he _still_ looking at me like that? My arms were up like I had intended to push him away. But now they were just laying there like useless tubes of flesh. Stupid arms.

"You're a real creep." I finally gathered enough wits to respond, _and_ glare. Better put the glare in there so he knew I was serious. I should have slapped him, that's what they did in the movies. Of course, the flesh tubes were still oblivious to my desires. Maybe it would be a delayed reaction? I held out hope that in ten minutes, when my body stopped responding like a hormonal teenager, he would be, well and _properly,_ beaten.

Hey, if I could pretend that the undead hadn't attacked me, I could _certainly_ pretend _this_ never happened.

Or at least push it back to the dark recesses of my mind. Bury it. _Really _deep.

"I have my moments." He was still grinning, _incredibly_ pleased with himself, still _looking_ at me. "That should confuse the sensor enough. Hopefully we'll just get ourselves a conduit implant."

"Conduit implant?" I asked, dazed. Oh. Right. Eiffel tower. The one that was currently lit up like a pyrotechnics Christmas tree. Yeah. _Bad_ things were happening. Thanks for keeping up. Oh, and we've lost the Doctor. And Donna. When had I forgotten all of that?

"Wait, doesn't that just mean we'll get cooked when the ship starts up?" Hah! Look at me! Keeping up! Pointing out that his plan was just going to get us killed. Besides, I could focus now. It was a _plan_. The kiss meant nothing. _Nothing._ It had a purpose was all. And the intensity of it was just…thoroughness. Yeah. That's it. And his hand still slid up my shirt, resting against my waist was…wait. No. I didn't know _how_ that worked into the plan.

Whatever. The point was to _forget_ it.

This was easier said than done with his warm hand still pressed against my skin. _And_ with him so dangerously close.

"Better dead later than _now_." He solved my problem by stepping away casually, as though it were no big deal at all. He turned toward the droid that had by now reached us both and looked up into the red beam that lowered across his skin. I just had time to notice Jack staring at me, looking flabbergasted. Great, here I was thinking I couldn't turn any redder. _Wrong_.

"_UNIDENTIFIED._" It said in its mechanical tone.

"See?" The Professor looked back over his shoulder at me, still wearing that satisfied smirk.

"_RETURN TO BASE FOR FURTHER SCAN_." His head snapped back to the machine so quickly I thought he might break his neck. Serves him right for looking so god damn _smug_.

"_What_?" He hissed at the droid. It didn't bother responding, but instead shot him with a dart. It struck him in the hand, just like Jack's had, but then the skin around the dart started to fade. Fade into…nothingness? And it was spreading up his arm. "What the _bloody_-?"

"That's the thing!" Amy chirped in, I had almost forgotten she and Rory were there. "That's what happened to the Doctor and Donna."

Oh, great. What a _relief_.

"_UNIDENTIFIED." _The droid said, dazzling my eyes with the red light. I hadn't even realized it had already moved on. I feel like I should have at _least_ made a run for it. I looked to the Professor, wishing that I _had_ slapped him when he was still _solid_. "_RETURN TO BASE FOR FURTHER SCAN_."

"You _idiot_." I fumed at the Professor's fading figure as I felt the dart smack into my hand.

"Fitz!" Jack was running forward, but my hand was already vanishing, and I could feel it spreading like cool water against my skin.

"See you in thirty, Harkness." The Professor said grimly before he vanished completely.

"Son of a _bi_-" But I didn't get to finish my sentence because suddenly I didn't have a voice. I didn't have eyes, or ears. Or _anything_. I didn't _exist_. How existentially creepy is_ that?_ It didn't last very long though, in the blink of an eye, or, I suppose, a hypothetical blink, since I didn't _have_ eyes yet, there was solid ground beneath my feet. I was silly enough to imagine that maybe it had just been an accident and I was still standing in the park. Sometimes I can be a real idiot.

When I finally opened my eyes, I found that we were no longer outdoors; we were in a very clinical room, made completely of metal and white lights. In fact, everything was white. Which was probably kind of fitting for me anyway. Just so long as they added some padding. Oh. And I feel like throwing up. Hold that thought.

"Are you alright?" The Professor asked from somewhere above my head. I guess I had dropped to the floor. Somewhere, someone really screwed up the whole traveling through space in an instant thing. My experiences had been pretty shitty so far. Slow breathing, in and out. Focus on not losing my lunch. Hating space travel, and aliens, and one_ particular_ alien.

"_Peachy_." I said, grateful that the dizziness was starting to subside. "Where are we?"

"Oh the _ship_, I imagine." It was always nice to know his snarkiness wasn't diminished by something as simple as an _alien kidnapping_. I suppose this wasn't our first rodeo, maybe there was a discount card we should be getting stamped. "Can you stand up? I understand running is easier on two legs."

Oh how I _hated_ him.

"Yeah yeah." I mumbled, bringing myself shakily to my feet with his help. I wobbled a bit and there he was catching me, stupidly close again. I looked up and found myself pinned by his gaze again. Reading my mind. Okay, maybe he wasn't reading my mind, but I felt like I was being pretty obvious at this point. Jesus, did I _really_ need to keep reminding myself that we were both in serious mortal _peril_?"

No. I was a grown up. Or at least, that's what I was going to tell myself.

"I'm fine." I insisted, pushing out of his arms. There, that was satisfying. Kind of. Not really.

"Another pair?" Sean Connery had entered the room. Well, it wasn't Sean Connery. It was a very blue alien, blue _and_ familiar. But it sounded a bit like Sean Connery. If Sean Connery had a serious case of emphysema, and, was possibly, dead. It was a bit of a stretch, but it helped me to think of him as James Bond. He was followed by another Joulex. Great! At least I knew what they were. Last known weakness…heavy bag to head. Where was my bag? Oh. Right. Back in Cardiff somewhere. _Crap_.

"Readings say 'unidentified'. Likely, just humans." The other grunted. There was no handy character I could compare this one to. Tweedle Dee? Or would he be Tweedle Dumb?

"Why are they speaking English?" I asked the Professor with a frown. It was hardly the dominant language on Earth; I seriously doubted it would be so popular everywhere in the universe. He had pushed me back behind him and we were both now retreating toward the wall. There didn't seem to be a door in this wall, so I wasn't sure what the long-term plan was, but, oh well.

"They're not. The TARDIS translates." He said quietly over his shoulder. Really? That _was_ a neat trick. I _should_ really get me one of those nifty space ships. Or not. Remembering the 'dream room' and the 'shifting furniture according to brain waves' room. Yeah. _Definitely_ not.

"Hello!" The Professor said brightly, in a voice I didn't recognize at all. "Is this the top of the Eiffel tower? Boy, it _really_ doesn't look like the pictures at all. Thought there'd be more windows. Anyway. We're a bit turned around. Do you think you could show us to the stairs? Nice costumes, by the way."

They both approached us, Sean Connery with some kind of scanner gun in his hand. I was just grateful they weren't stretching again. Color challenged I could _deal_ with, defying physics, or whatever law that stated arms shouldn't stretch like jelly, I could _not_.

"Oh I'm afraid not." Sean Connery said, with something that looked like a smirk. It was hard to tell. There were eyes, and a mouth, but they were nearly seamless in the giant globe that made up its head. Whatever it was doing, it looked _sinister_. "You'll be staying with us." He said in a tone that suggested we weren't going to enjoy the visit. I found myself reaching for the Professor nervously, needing to remind myself that I _wasn't_ alone. He obliged my need for handholding; I guess he wasn't _always _a scumbag. That didn't mean he wasn't going to mock me for it later.

Sean Connery stepped forward and scanned the Professor who flinched back like he had been struck.

"Ah." He seemed quite pleased. "_Another_ time lord. The process should go much quicker now. The others have been prone to…_breakage_." That wasn't ominous at _all. _He moved the scanner toward me and my hand snatched at the necklace nervously. I couldn't remember when I had decided to do that. And then they hit me in the face with a hammer.

Well. That's roughly what it felt like.

"_Shhhhiii-_" I was blinking away the tears that were forming in my eyes. Jesus that had _hurt_. Where was the nice innocent droid now?

"Just another human." Mister Bond sounded disappointed. "Put her in the cage with the others." Tweedle Dee stepped forward and grabbed for my free arm.

"No _thank_ you." I stepped back, I couldn't remember a time that technique had actually worked, but here I was, trying it again. More distance between me and my imminent death gave me _some_ hope.

His blue fingers latched on anyway, pulling me forward. I wasn't at all eager to be dragged off to some cage on a space ship run by the smurfs. I _certainly_ wasn't interested in going alone. I tightened my grip on the Professor, refusing to let go even as I was jerked angrily.

"I'm not going anywhere with you, blueberry!" I shouted and started to kick as he reached for my legs. Of course, being made of jelly, I had little effect on him. And apparently, wobbly blue arms were loads stronger than my wobbly pale ones because with a final yank I lost my hold.

"It's _alright_ Fitz. Don't _panic_." The Professor reassured me as they took us down an equally white hallway. Sure. It's totally fine. This wasn't me _panicking_, this is me _acting_ like I was panicking. You know, to throw off the trail to my _super_ calm interior.

"I want to speak to your manager!" I shouted in a very non-panicked voice. My companion started dragging me down the hall, but as I grew less and less cooperative, he ended up carrying me. "Take me to your leader!"

"There is no _leader_." The creature hissed at me, using his fingers pretty effectively as rope. Handy trick, that. "We are the last of our kind."

"Well _that's_ a sad story." It sort of was, but I wasn't really in a sympathetic mood just then. You know, with my capture and imminent doom. "You know what else is sad? Kidnapping people off the planet. I bet NATO or someone is _really_ pissed at you right now. Maybe if you send us back _immediately_ we can put in a good word for you." Like hell, I was going to recommend they nuke them right out of the sky. Radioactive fallout gained superpowers be _damned_. I could put up with more Peter Parker's in the world.

"There won't be a planet _left_ in a moment." The creature glared at me as the hallway opened into a wider room. It, too, was painfully white, like some kind of dental commercial and it was starting to give me a headache. It was a big circle with a chair interrupting the center of it, a chair where the Doctor sat slumped over, unconscious. Dead, was how I wanted to put it, I couldn't even tell if he was breathing. But my inner optimist fought through, or my inner 'he can't be dead, because if he's dead, you're next' voice. One of the two.

"Doctor!" The Professor called out from behind us, his concerned tone was alarming. I was yanked away to the side of the room, where I realized that the walls weren't really walls, but bars. The whole room was surrounded by cells. The gate opened and I was tossed in where I fell to my knees, and realized, with some horror, that there were bodies in my cell. Even my inner optimist couldn't convince me that they were anything but dead. Their skin had charcoaled black and cracked in some places. These people were very _very_ dead, and they had not died pleasantly. I found myself scooting back to the furthest corner, of course they _wouldn't_ turn into zombies, but you could never be too careful.

I turned my attention back to the center of the room, I did see Donna, in a cell of her own, looking equally as well as the Doctor did. So. Not _well_ at all. They pulled the Doctor from the chair and replaced him with the Professor. That wasn't a good sign. Dragging the Doctor into the cell next to me, they tossed him in, where he collapsed in a heap.

"Hey! Hey!" I said, banging my hands against the door that rattled slightly. "There's bodies in this one. Can I have another cell?" While I told myself it was just an excuse to get into the same cell as Donna or the Doctor, secretly, I realized that I was continually glancing over my shoulder at the barbequed people, with a growing fear that they _were_ going to get back up.

"Best make your peace with the fact that you'll be just like them shortly. A _snack_." I got the distinct feeling that these blue bastards just didn't like me.

"Snack?" I felt my sass die in my throat. "No one likes nachos?" That line, which could have been _really_ great, just kind of whimpered out.

"Make sure the influx generators are prepared." Sean Connery ordered his minion and with a short nod, he walked out of the room. "Aren't you _pleased_, time lord?" He circled around the throne where the Professor was stuck. "_Your_ kind started that war, and it ended _my_ people. And now, here we are, you give your life to save the Joulex. Quite fitting, don't you agree?"

"What makes you think we didn't start that war _just_ to eradicate your slime sucking species?" The Professor sneered at him. Oh, so we were _aggravating_ our captors. Alright. Best get my singing voice ready.

The blue creature hissed at him and stepped around to the back of the chair where a rather unpleasant looking switch was waiting. The Professor looked up at me once, and I felt my stomach fill with lead. This was going to be _bad_. He flipped the switch and the Professor threw his head back, and through his clenched teeth I could hear something that wasn't quite a scream, filling the room. He was glowing from within and whatever it was that was charging through him was tensing all of his muscles at once. It was killing him, and I couldn't bear to listen to it.

"Stop!" I screamed over the noises he was making, slamming the bars as hard as I could. "Just stop it!" After a moment, he did. Flipping the switch back to its less dangerous position, the Professor collapsed with a heavy sigh.

"Thank you…" I said, it seemed only polite. I hadn't _actually_ expected them to listen.

"It's not for you_ ape_." He sneered at me, wandering up to my cage so I could tell he was sneering, and not just bulging strangely. "If we drain him too quickly, he'll die before the ship is ready."

Well. That was a _relief_. I'd get to hear him scream like that for a long time before it finally stopped. I should have clubbed them harder with my book bag. And maybe curb stomped their stupid little blue skills when I had the _chance_.

"Listen you piece of _space trash_-" I had my arm through the bars, ready to ring his goopy little neck if he got close enough.

"Fitz…" The Professor's voice was weak but it caught my attention anyway, his head lolled on his shoulders, but he seemed to be conscious, even though he was unable to open his eyes. "It's alright."

"Yes, listen to your little friend. If you behave, perhaps we'll end you quickly." Sean Connery, the _asshole_, spun around and returned to the center of the room.

No. It was _not_ fucking alright. And I didn't know how I could change that. My eyes darted to the bodies nearby, a pleasant reminder of what I was going to become shortly. _No_. I didn't have _time_ for a pity party right now, I needed to _do_ something. I realized the Doctor was just within reach, even though he still hadn't moved. I stuck my hands through the bars and was just able to grasp his jacket sleeve.

I flinched as I heard the switch flip again and the hum of electricity was followed shortly by the Professor's pained groans. I pushed it out of my mind, I needed to focus, and the frantic tears that were starting to form in my eyes were _not helping_. I brushed at them angrily and reached for the jacket again, my fingers clasped it, just barely, and then I tugged. Now his hand was within reach, and so I pulled him all the way against the bars until his shoulder halted his progress.

"Hey!" I hissed at him under my breath, I didn't know if it mattered, but I doubted the blue man group wanted me talking with a fellow prisoner. There was no response, that didn't really surprised me since I had just dragged him across the floor and he hadn't so much as twitched.

A pulse. I should check for a pulse.

With my fingers pressed against his wrist I squeaked a little too excitedly when I found that there _was_ one. It was _crazy_ rapid, but I suppose that made sense, if he had two hearts like the Professor. But then, what was _too_ rapid? What was a normal resting heart rate for a time lord? Twice a humans? Maybe. That was a good enough place to start.

Wait. What was a normal resting heart rate for a human?

God dammit.

I really should have paid attention in class. Just _once_.

Whatever. He was alive. And if he was alive, that meant he could wake up. Hopefully. I shuffled myself closer to the bars so I could shake the Doctor properly.

"Seriously, I hit you in the head with a _lead pipe_ and you bounced right back. Wake up you lazy sack of alien _crap_." I had his jacket in my grip and was shaking for all I was worth. It was going to be just _fine_. Everything was going to work out. I just had to get this idiot to wake up and _make it_ fine. "So help me, I will choke you _out_ with that stupid bow tie of yours!" I dropped him in a heap and finally swung back, slapping him in the face, _hard_. Well, as hard as I could. It was difficult, seeing how I was crammed between metal bars. But I made an effort.

His eyes fluttered open just as I was about to swing back and strike him again. At the same time, the machine in the center of the room shut off, mercifully, silencing the Professor. I jerked back and tried to look like I was just sitting in the corner of my cell, but it didn't look like I needed to bother. Sean Connery was amusing himself by tormenting the Professor.

"Fitz?" The Doctor's voice was raspy and weak; he also seemed to be struggling to stay conscious. Not the heroic return I was hoping for. "What are you doing here?" He clung to the bars and raised himself into a half sitting position, but that seemed to tax him greatly.

"I just wanted a croissant." I whispered. Here comes the whole god damn pity _parade_. I twisted my hands together, ready to let the waterworks begin. Apparently, I had only wanted to wake the Doctor so I could have someone witness my total cry baby meltdown.

"It's okay, Fitz. We're going to get out of this, just you wait." The Doctor grinned, as though nothing were the matter at all, like he had planned this whole thing as a big joke. He twisted to sit up straighter but he let out his breath in a sharp hiss. He wasn't dead, but he certainly wasn't up for living just yet. My fingers caught on the ring the Professor had given me. "Trust me," He groaned as he situated himself. "I'm the Doctor." His smirk was forced, no longer carefree.

I shouldn't even _be_ here.

But. I was _wrong_. Well, no. I was right, but not in the way I thought. The Doctor and Donna shouldn't _be_ here. The Professor shouldn't _be_ here. The whole of the Earth might not even be hostage if not for _me_.

It was my fault.

Not just the croissant, that was greedy, but not the real problem. That I was still alive at _all _was the problem. The Professor had _saved_ me, but at what cost? Without whatever power they thought could be gained from me, the Joulex had decided they would take the whole of the earth. And the time lords. And these people in the cell that might not otherwise be dead.

I was the fuck up. I _shouldn't_ be here. I should be _dead_. I was what they had really _wanted_ in the first place.

Was I brave enough to throw myself out there like that?

No. Not really. Xena warrior princess I was _not_.

But I didn't have any _better _ideas, or really _any_ ideas. While I wasn't brave, I wasn't stupid either. Well. I wasn't _completely_ stupid. I had seen this movie before. The longer I stayed in this cage, afraid and quiet, the more people were going to die. People I _cared_ about. And then _everyone_ was going to die.

I started to work the ring off my finger and the Doctor noticed my look of grim determination. Or total insanity. It's hard to imagine what my decision face looks like.

"What are you doing?" He asked with a frown.

"Shut up." I told him. "I've got a plan." That seemed to alarm him further, apparently 'plan' was code for 'really bad idea'. But to be fair, that was probably completely accurate.

"Whatever you're doing. _Don_'_t_." He grabbed my arm, but in his weakened state, it felt more like he was just laying it over mine.

"Trust me, I'm the human. I know what I'm doing." _Lies_! All total lies! "Here, take this." I said stuffing the ring into his hand as I pulled away from him. "I won't be needing it anymore."

"A bio damp?" The Doctor looked from the ring to me and back again. "What are you doing with a bio damp?"

"Hey blue balls!" I shouted in my most aggressive voice. Which, of course, probably sounded childish and afraid. Whatever, too late to regret not taking drama when I had the chance. "Yeah you, the _ugly_ one!" Double oh seven finally looked up from whatever he was doing to the Professor and glared at me. "Ugly, _and_ blue. Why couldn't you pick a real color, like red, or _green_? Everyone knows aliens are green. Not blue like the cookie monster." I suppose it would have been more insulting if he knew who the cookie monster was, but that was neither here nor there.

"I will be with you shortly, _pest_." He glowered at me. Still not interested in leaving the Professor.

"Hey, don't I _know_ you? Oh yeah, didn't I knock you out with my bag? I _thought _that looked like a book shaped lump in your head." That seemed to grab his attention. "Did you want another one?"

"Fitz. Shut…_up_." The Professor groaned. Still a sweetheart, even now.

"You _do_ remember me." I said with a smile, the kind that sort of stretched my face out in a horrifying way. "Isn't it _weird_ how you forgot that _I_ was the one you were looking for? You know, earlier, when I totally kicked your _ass_?"

"Your scan was human." He said, though there seemed to be some creeping doubt in his voice. He flipped the switch and the Professor jerked again, his groans were quieter now, as though he didn't have the strength to really scream. The Joulex approached the bars of my cell and I stepped back so he couldn't strangle me, of course, that wasn't to say he couldn't still get me anyway.

"Yeah, and earlier, when I had my little make-out session, it said 'unknown'. I'm not putting a lot of faith in your equipment." I was even starting to feel a little brave. Go me! That was only because I fully expected the worst possible scenario to play out, so there was nothing to lose.

"Make-out session?" The Doctor had pulled himself nearly upright, leaning against the bars. It was good to know he was focused on the _important_ details.

"Maybe you should hook me up to the _real_ machine, see what I've got to offer. I bet it's more than scrawny here," I jerked my thumb at the Doctor who was still struggling to stand. "Or him." I nodded to where the Professor was still trembling in the chair, still having the life sucked out of him. Come _on_ already.

"I will be the judge of _that_." He opened the cell door and stepped forward, the Doctor clutched at his arm but didn't slow him down.

"She's just a _human_!" He insisted even as he pressed himself against the bars, trying to grab hold of something. Its blue fingers stretched around my scalp and held me still as it closed its eyes.

"She's right." Sean Connery hissed with something I could only describe as _glee_. "There is…_radiation_. And more. _Much_ more." His other hand reached for the necklace around my throat and it laughed. It was a really unpleasant sucking sound, as though it couldn't laugh, but thought gurgling was almost the same thing. "You will make a _fine_ meal _indeed_." It said that last part hungrily, not really encouraging. I started to struggle now, the point was to get the Professor _out_ of the chair, not to die still in my cell.

"Perhaps…just a sample." It opened its mouth wide and bent over my face; it was a giant dark blue void that crackled with white light, not really what I had expected. I struggled in its grip but failed to do anything more than get trapped in its constantly adjusting hands.

And then I _threw_ myself at it.

Except, that wasn't really _accurate_. It wasn't _me_ who did it. And I didn't _move_ either.

Sean Connery sure did. His eyes grew wide as he shot across my small cell and out the door, crashing against the bars on the far side of the room.

Um. _What?_

"_Blimey_, what was _that_?" The Doctor asked, mirroring my thoughts perfectly.

"Don't know." I mumbled. "Doesn't matter." I shook my head, well, it _did_. But I certainly didn't have time to think about why. Or what. Or how. Or any of the five W's. "Can you get out of there? Apparently, we have thirty minutes until the ship vaporizes the planet and everyone on it. Well," I said, thinking back. "We _had_ thirty minutes. Maybe we're at twenty now." Maybe even fifteen? I wasn't good at important details like that, that's why no one _ever_ put me in charge.

"My screwdriver." He nodded, sensing the urgency and making his way back to his own door. Meanwhile, the Professor was still screaming. I ran as best as I could on shaking legs to the center of the room, slamming the switch back home when I reached it. The Professor dropped back in the chair and I knelt down in front of him. There was some kind of band across his forehead, which I removed carefully.

"Hey, stupid. Time to get up." I said, pushing his head back. His lids twitched but he didn't open them. "Fine, I'll carry you, like a little fairy _princess_. Does that make you happy?" I asked, hoping he would say something snide, or rude, or _anything_. But he didn't. Well, he was still _breathing_, I was just going to have to be happy with _that_. I tucked his arm over my shoulder and lifted. Man, I was really _not_ built for carrying people. I stumbled away from the chair, that was a start, but I only ended up collapsing as I tried to go further. I did my best not to drop the Professor like a sack of bricks, but that ended up dragging me down with him.

"Hey!" I said to the Doctor who had soniced his cell open by now and was making his way, a bit wobbly, around the room. I tried to unpin my arm from under the Professor where he fell. "I could use some help here."

"Got to get Donna." The Doctor waved his screwdriver, using his other hand to push him along the walls. He wasn't quite steady enough to take full steps across open ground. Great, I was going to have to get _three_ useless lumps out of here.

"No copping…a feel." The Professor finally spoke, a bit haltingly, but I let out a sigh of relief. Speaking, speaking _and_ snarky. It was a good sign.

"You have to wake up to stop me." I said, trying to lift him to a seated position.

"Who said…I _want _you to stop?" He made an effort to smile as his eyes opened.

"Pervert-" I muttered about the same time cool tendrils wrapped themselves around my throat and yanked me back. I was spun around to face the other creature. How had I forgotten there were two of them? This is why I'm _never_ in charge!

"You've _killed_ him." Tweedle Dee/Dumb glared at me, its hands tightening around my windpipe more and more. "_How_?" There was fury in its gaze, but I didn't think it really wanted an answer. That or it _severely_ misunderstood how humans spoke. My thoughts were more on trying to force air into my lungs, though I didn't really have an answer for him. Still, I wasn't even able to shake my head. Where were my superpowers now? The blood was pounding in my head and I felt like my face was a giant balloon ready to burst. I clawed at its fingers with my nails, struggling to stay conscious, but my vision was starting to tunnel.

Man, earth girl could _not_ catch a break.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Oh my gosh guys! Thank you SO much! I'm feeling all warm and fuzzy and smiley all at once! It's glorious! Thanks so much for your reviews! They mean oodles! And kaboodles!**

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><p>"<em>Just a perfect day, you made me forget myself. I thought I was someone else, someone good"<em>

The creature exploded like a balloon, spraying blue innards in a wide arc that nearly reached where he was still hunched over, clinging to the chair. The Professor let his hand drop back to the floor, the screwdriver suddenly seemed too heavy to support. Moving hurt. Breathing hurt. _Everything _hurt.

"Fitz?" He called out in the relative quiet of the ship, of course, he was still hearing the ringing from the machine he had been hooked up to. He thought he saw some movement under the blanket of blue…_goop_.

"Good shot." The Doctor said appreciatively from where he was clinging to the white bars of Donna's cell. She seemed to have woken as well as he struggled to help her stand. "_Laser_ screwdriver? I don't remember giving you one of _those_." His tone was accusatory.

"You know," The Professor groaned as he used the chair to pull himself up. "Trying to keep busy." He could hear coughing coming from the direction he had last seen Fitz.

"Remind me to get you some crossword puzzles." The Doctor muttered as he focused on attending to Donna.

"Fitz? Are you alright? Answer me." His steps were halting as he moved forward, the muscles screaming at him in his struggle to stay upright.

"I'm covered in sewer flavored jello." She said with a raspy voice.

"Good, that's good." He sighed as he saw her, crouched down amid the pile. "Stars, you _are_ filthy." The blue stain had effectively coated her whole body and she was struggling to wipe some of it off her glasses, with equally covered hands.

"That…that exploding thing. That was _you_, right?" She asked him nervously, he wanted to crouch down to help her up, but he was fairly certain that he wouldn't be able to stand up again. He frowned, noticing her eyes dart to the other Joulex that still lay motionless across the room.

"Yes…_why_?" She didn't answer but he didn't like the dubious look she was giving him. "Can't you stay out of trouble for _one_ minute?" He finally said, exasperated that there was yet _another_ mystery of hers to solve.

"Oh, I _forgot_. Because you were handling the whole situation _really_ well." She muttered, accepting the hand he offered to stand up. She tried wiping her hands on her pants only to realize that they too, were hopeless. With a scowl she tried flicking it off like water. Which was equally unsuccessful.

"I _had_ a plan." He glared at her. He didn't bother to add that the plan was to stay alive long enough for the Doctor to recover. What was _important_ was that the plan did _not_ involve Fitz trying to get herself _killed_. _Again._ She wandered out of the blue muck and he followed her back to the center of the room where she was trying to…wipe her hands against the console in an effort to clean her glasses. "Here," He rolled his eyes as he saw yet another failed attempt. He took the glasses from her and cleaned them with the bottom of his shirt. When he looked up again, she was trying to squeegee what she could off her face. He sighed. So much for his _clean_ white shirt. He unrolled his sleeve and started to mop the worst of it away from her eyes, which had taken a hit despite the protection from her glasses.

"Thanks _mom_." She grumbled as he used his other sleeve to wipe the rest of her face clean.

"Don't mention it." He said with a scowl as he shoved the glasses back onto her ears and started to walk toward the Doctor and Donna. A sharp pain fired through his leg before he took a step, seizing his muscles. He hissed in a breath and felt it start to fold underneath him, but Fitz grabbed him before he could fall. She wasn't strong enough to support him completely, but it gave him time to catch his balance. He stood back up, steadying himself by placing his hand on Fitz's waist. Something he didn't quite realize was awkward until he was face to face with her.

"Way to be a klutz." She didn't look him in the eyes as she spoke and she dropped her own arms quickly. "Sorry, guess you're going to smell now, too."

"It's not that bad." He tried to be reassuring as he pushed back a rather thickly coated chunk of hair that was threatening to fall into her face.

"Oi!" Donna said, stumbling out of her cell on wobbly legs. "What's that _stink_?" Her grating voice interrupted his train of thoughts and he turned to her with a scowl. "Oh." She said tactfully. "That'll be the liquefied alien bits? Yeah? Alright then." She nodded as she made her way down the steps with the Doctor's help. "What happened to _him_?" She nodded toward the body that lay unmoving nearby, its skull clearly crushed in by its encounter with the cell wall.

That _was_ an interesting question, one he hadn't given much thought to until just now. How _had_ Fitz escaped her cell to release him from that infernal chair? The Doctor's gaze narrowed on her in a suspicious way. The Professor found himself turning back toward Fitz warily.

"What did you…" He trailed off, unsure of what kind of answer he expected. Fitz just looked at him nervously, he wasn't sure she had an answer to _give_ him. Which could only mean…

"What happened to him is something that needs a _serious_ explanation." The Doctor said in a tone much cooler than usual. That was _bound_ to be a bad sign. "_However_, that will have to wait. Right _now_, we've got a planet to save." He returned to his more jovial self as he led Donna down the hall.

"Oh, is _that _all?" The Professor found himself muttering. Why was it _always_ the same with the Doctor? Rescuing kittens from trees was certainly his style, but never quite the scope of impending doom that he regularly attracted.

"Yes, that's _all_. Now, come along. Engineering through here." The Doctor started to disappear down the hallway. The Professor looked back at Fitz, but what could he ask? What difference could it make to have his fears confirmed? She seemed to be in control _now_. That would have to be good enough. He followed the Doctor and found the ship's bridge quickly enough, along with the controls. It was not a large machine, and should not be difficult to figure out how to reverse what the Joulex had intended to do. But as he came to the helm where the Doctor was scanning furiously with his sonic screwdriver, he realized that they were in some _serious_ trouble.

"Isomorphic." He muttered as the Doctor looked up at him expectantly.

"Rubbish." The Doctor scowled. "There's no such thing." He starting flipping switches and dials at random, but the gentle hum of the engines around them remained unchanged. "Alright, _perhaps_ that was just a clever lie. Are you _sure_?" The Doctor asked the Professor, still diligently pushing anything that looked like it might react to his touch.

"Of course I'm _sure_." He snapped. The Doctor questioning his engineering skills was more than laughable, it was _insulting_.

"Well?" The Doctor finally stuffed his sonic away and scratched at his head in a frustrated way.

"Well _what_?" The Professor said, glaring at the circuit board, there was nothing to be done.

"_Well…_ can you fix it in less than…" He spun his wrist around and looked at the gold watch. "Six minutes? Because that's all you've got. You know, before the whole planet is sucked _dry_. Along with all seven billion people on it. No _pressure_ or anything."

"You can't just _reroute_ isomorphic controls in _six_ bloody minutes." He snapped at the Doctor as he popped the circuit board open with his own screwdriver, starting to rapidly switch through the wires. "You can't do it in an _hour_!" He hissed as one of the wires zapped his finger painfully. Of course, just because it was _impossible_ didn't mean he wasn't going to _try_.

"Well, I'm _sorry_. I was under the impression I was talking to the most brilliant engineer in the galaxy." He threw his arms in the air. "I suppose we should just _give up_ then." The Doctor clapped his hands together and turned back to Donna, leaving the Professor to do what he could. "So. Six minutes, we can't turn off the influx generators without the help of the Joulex. Who we've just _killed_." He glared back at the Professor, was still hunched over the wires.

Stars, would he never _shut up_? "Don't think I'm letting that slide, _either_." He snapped his fingers and pointed resolutely at the Professor. Ever the _saint_, the man who was known for his second chances. He couldn't say that he was feeling very sorry for having vaporized that _scumbag_ creature. Fitz may have still been coated in the stinking remnants, but that didn't mean he couldn't see the purple bruises that were slowly blossoming around her throat. No, he was quite _glad_ he had ended that particular problem. "Anyway. Ideas! Who's first?" The Doctor grinned at Donna and Fitz cheerfully.

"Um. I'm _covered_ in alien. Does that help?" She offered out her hands, now starting to dry in a sticky blue mess.

"Afraid _not_." The Doctor made a face and gave her outstretched arms wide berth. "Need _living _brain waves. But I _like_ where your head's at." He nodded thoughtfully. He pulled an over sized handkerchief out of his jacket pocket and handed it over. "Here, that should help clean you up…_although_ you seemed to have already managed on your own…" The Professor could feel the Doctor's eyes locked on the blue stains on his shirt. Let him look, this was _hardly_ the time for personal questions. He brought his own focus back on the multitude of pearl wires in front of him, why had the Joulex been so _obsessed_ with making everything so _damnably_ white.

"Why don't we just bloody _crash_ it?" Donna asked from where she was leaning against the wall.

"Isomorphic controls mean we can't shut down the generator, _or_ fly the ship." The Professor replied irritably after another wire fizzled sharply in his fingers.

"_Oi_. You're giving me a headache." She muttered as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "On _top_ of the one I've already got. Besides, you don't need to steer a plane to _crash_ it, mister _engineer_." She said snottily.

"Oh," The Doctor said with his lips pursed out. "I _like_ that."

"The generators will still be running." The Professor shook his head, there was a chance it could work. But also a chance that it would fail. _Miserably_. "Even if we manage to take them out, it might still fry everything local. Including your friends on the ground. Unless they actually _listened_ to you and found the TARDIS." He looked up at the Doctor dryly. "Which I'm _seriously_ doubting."

"You're right." The Doctor's mouth twitched. They had that in common at least, the inability to make the _idiot_ apes listen to them at any given time. If the Doctor had a knack for landing in trouble, humans had to have some kind of genetic programming for it. "But…ah! We can use the river. That'll nip it _right_ in the rear."

"That'll send the feedback into the generators themselves!" Donna said excitedly, ignoring her headache for the moment.

"Which will kill the signal completely." The Professor felt a smile creep across his face.

"Oh, that's _brilliant_." The Doctor strode over to the Professor's side and ruffled his hair, causing his smile to be replaced with a definite scowl. "_Excellent_ work, team! Oh," He said thoughtfully as he pulled his sonic out of his pocket. "I rather _like_ that. _Team._"

"I wouldn't get used to it." The Professor shot the Doctor a glare as he removed his own screwdriver and pointed it toward the control board. The ship was directly above the river, all they had to do was bring it down.

"No one else is a _little_ bit worried about our plan to…you know. _Crash_?" Fitz asked nervously as the sparks started to fly out of the controls, small fires flickering to life within the wire panel. "I get that the whole _planet_ is at stake…" She trailed off.

"We'll be fine." The Doctor reassured her as he ducked under his elbow to escape the burns of a particularly aggressive spark. Smoke started to billow up and the whole ship shifted beneath their feet, the engines that had been a low hum before started to whine. "The gravity stabilizers will cushion us from serious impact. They're like airbags." He said brightly.

"Oh, alright then." Fitz nodded, plastering a look on her face that said she _wanted_ to believe him.

"Well, except there's no air involved really. Or bags. _Really,_ airbags are _quite_ rubbish, basically just slamming against you with something _slightly_ softer than a brick wall." He flicked the screwdriver off and tucked it back into his pocket. "Forget the airbags." He shook his head as he covered his nose with his jacket to avoid the smoke.

"The _point_ is," The Professor interrupted the Doctor's ramblings. "We should be _fine_." The floor jumped beneath them again and they all were dropped to their knees before the ground leveled once more. "You know, once the stabilizers _kick _in." The Professor said wryly.

"Well. Technically, _if_ they kick in." The Doctor added helpfully with a shrug.

"You mean you aren't _sure?" _Donna was holding herself still with the base of the control panels now.

"Well," The Doctor shrugged. "It _was_ us or the _planet_. Yeah, _sue_ me, I didn't double check." Donna's glare was almost as scalding as the Professor's. "Besides," He waved his hand at them, struggling to his feet again. "At the rate we're dropping, we'll be just fiiiiiiiii-!" As he tried to imply they would be _fine_ the bottom dropped out again, and they were hurtling to the ground in a hurry. The Professor threw himself over Fitz, not knowing if it would do them any good.

"I _hate_ you!" Donna managed to shout over the sounds of the ships engines sputtering out of control. The Doctor just grinned in that insane way of his, starting to lift off the ground as they were now falling at the same rate of the ship. The Professor shook his head, and _he _was supposed to be the mad one. They were thrown up into the air as the exterior of the ship met solid ground. The sound of it crumpling around them was deafening, and then the lights failed, dousing them in complete darkness. The Professor blinked a few times, certain he was still alive because he could still feel Fitz clutched in his grip, and he could certainly still _smell_ her. The metal of the walls around them groaned and tilted before crashing against something once more, this sound decidedly _wetter_ than the first. So they had made the river, and judging by how he wasn't speared in half by any type of shrapnel, the stabilizers must have kicked in, cushioning them away from the walls of the ship.

"Hah!" The Doctor interrupted the quiet of their pitch-black surroundings and flipped on his sonic screwdriver, illuminating everything with a green glow. "Told you!" He said with a smirk. They were all floating near the center of the room, the walls violently folded as though they were made of tin, the space was much smaller than it had been.

"You're barking _mad _is what you are." Donna muttered mutinously. Along with the groaning metal and hissing of dying electrical power, there was a low rushing sound coming from the inside of the ship.

"Ah, that'll be the _river_ then." The Doctor cast his light down below them where the shattered remains of the floor could now be seen to be flooding slowly with water. Drowning, _another_ possibility that the Doctor had failed to concern himself with before deciding the 'plan' was a sound one. It was a wonder _any_ of his companions survived him. "Best get out before we run out of air. I don't think the gravity will help us with _that_." He grinned and nodded over his shoulder. "Come on, I suspect the back door is this way." He used the ceiling to pull himself forward and Donna followed not far behind, still grumbling at him about how he should have further discussed his 'plan', which, she was failing to admit, had been _hers_ in the first place.

"Is it a bad time to mention I don't know how to swim?" Fitz asked in a quiet enough voice that he realized she was serious. He looked back down his arm, where he was still gripping Fitz's hand tightly.

"Seriously?" He asked with a scowl. Of _course_ she was serious, it was impossible for her _not_ to make everything as potentially difficult as it could be.

"Well, I didn't _plan_ on crashing a space ship into a river today. My bad!" She made a face at him, indicating her annoyance.

"What _do_ you plan for?" He started to pull them both forward, out of the room that had once housed the controls.

"Punching you right in the face just as soon as I have the leverage to do it." She snapped. He looked back at her, ready to give a sharp retort, but she was still covered in a substantial amount of blue jelly, and it was hard not to laugh at her then. He just smirked, trying to restrain himself and continued forward.

"Yeah, laugh it up _space cadet_. If I drown, I'm taking _you_ with me." She still sounded annoyed, but she seemed to sense the futility of threatening him as he dragged her through the ship.

"I'm sorry. I keep forgetting I found you in a _bookstore_." He looked back over his shoulder and was met with an angry glare.

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?" There was that hostility again, he supposed he had only himself to blame. But humans always took _everything_ so personally.

"Nothing. It means that you haven't lived as long me, but I keep expecting you have. I guess I just get a bit on the tetchy side after I've been _electrocuted_." He reminded her, because the pain in his whole body certainly wasn't about to let him _forget_.

"I've _noticed_." She mumbled in a tone that suggested she doubted he had a side that wasn't 'tetchy'.

"I won't let you _drown_." He offered as an olive branch.

"My _hero_." She rolled her eyes at him, but her voice didn't have quite the sharpness as before.

"Forward march!" The Doctor said from the end of the hall, the damage wasn't as bad this far into the ship. It opened up a little further as they reached him, and the Professor could see a large dark door that seemed quite solid. There was a small window in the center, and presumably, a room beyond it. It looked like the airlock for an escape shuttle. With the sonic screwdriver the Doctor opened the main door and ushered them all inside before closing it behind them. The room itself had suffered very little, though it looked like the escape pod had fallen away, as beyond the second airlock, there was only a green murky haze.

"So…the escape pod is _gone_." Donna added in an unhelpful tone.

"Of course it is, first things to fall off in a crash. Not a very good design at _all_. But no matter. You can't take an escape pod into the _river_. That wouldn't _work_." He waved her off.

"That's the _river_ outside?" Fitz asked in a small voice. The Professor realized her concern, they hadn't just fallen _into_ the river, they had sunk to the _bottom_ of it.

"That's the one!" The Doctor said cheerfully, heedless of their worried looks. "So, deep breath everyone. It's going to rush in quite quick. But the pressure should equal out as soon as the room is filled."

"You're just gonna _open_ that door and let all the water _in_? That's your big _plan_?" Donna had her hands on her hips, but the effect was somewhat ruined by the fact that she was spinning sideways up into the ceiling.

"Yep. That's the one." The Doctor nodded, pushing himself back from the door as he aimed the sonic at it.

"Hold on tight." The Professor wrapped his arm around Fitz's shoulder in addition to holding her hand. She was surprisingly quiet, no snarky complaint or anything. When he looked down he realized she was too busy staring wide eyed at the darkness beyond the second door. "It'll be alright." He felt like he needed to reassure her, or at least, he _wanted_ to. She gave a quick nod to show she had heard him, but squeezed her eyes shut. He frowned, but there wasn't much else to do except reach the surface quickly. The screwdriver whirred in its high-pitched way as the Doctor went through the settings and the door finally started to creak under the pressure, suddenly bursting outward, only to be slammed back against the ship's side by the river itself. Thankfully, it had dropped a few feet from its original spot, so there was a gap they could make it through. With the breach in the ship's hull, the gravity boost failed and they all fell crashing to the ground. The Professor groaned, not quite wanting to move from where he had landed, and Fitz's shoulder in his chest wasn't helping things either. He started to wonder if there weren't _other_ motivations for being the sworn enemy of the Doctor.

"Right! Thought that might happen!" The Doctor was shouting to be heard over the water as it rushed in through the gap, filling the airlock as it did. "Same plan, just a bit of a wait." Fitz looked visibly shaken as she struggled to stand and the Professor used the wall to bring himself to his feet. He noticed that the water level was already up to his knees and rising. "Although, not a very _long_ wait." The Doctor amended.

"At least you'll get a bath!" The Professor shouted to Fitz to try and lighten her mood, but she wasn't looking at him. In fact, she was faced away from the door, almost using him as a shield to block her view of it. "Fitz?" Gripping her shoulders, he realized she was shaking. It was cold, but certainly not _that_ cold. "Fitz, what's _wrong_?"

She finally looked up, her face was gaunt with fear and her lips were pursed in a thin line. "I guess I should also mention the reason I can't swim is because I'm afraid of the water!" She had meant it to sound sarcastic, just like everything else she said, but it had come out anxious. She was _absurd_. She had just had a shouting match with a Joulex, who had fully intended to _kill_ her, and she was saying she was _afraid _now? Of the _water_?

"I thought you weren't afraid of anything!" He smirked down her, the water had passed his waist and was still rising, he could feel his own buoyancy starting to cause his feet to bob up from the ground.

"I guess you really _haven't_ been reading my mind!" She admitted, a whisper of a smile on her lips. But her attention fell back to the water that was still crawling upward and she shivered again, her breathing starting to race.

_A bloated figure, dark hair, middle aged, goatee. They were pulling his body from the lake, the weeds still wrapped around his ankle where they had trapped him beneath the water. Pale blue skin, a crying little girl_.

He jerked back physically. She hadn't noticed, still too occupied with the level of the water around her. He could feel her fingers starting to dig into him. Of course, he hadn't been looking in her mind _intentionally_, but her overwhelming fear was making the memory of her father's death more palpable, and his own weakened state had left his mental barriers insubstantial. But now he could understand why she was watching the river flowing in around them with a sick fear. The Doctor had replaced the sonic into his jacket pocket, but the sunshine was filtering through, giving them some light down in the ship. Fitz started to hyperventilate as the water reached their necks, jumping off the floor to keep above it. She was going to pass out if she didn't calm down.

"Fitz!" He shouted to get her attention, she was slapping at the water fruitlessly now, it was like she had never even _seen _someone swimming. Of course she had, she had been with her father at the lake after all. But her fear was destroying whatever logical part of her brain was left, flying full tilt into a panicked state. He grabbed her arms and pulled them over his shoulders. "It's alright, just hold onto me!" She locked eyes with him, desperate and afraid. He met her gaze and nodded firmly. "It's alright!" He repeated. Something seemed to fight through the storm raging in her mind and she jerked her chin once, locking her arms around his neck. The Doctor was creeping closer to the door as they were bobbing further away. The ship was at an angle and it was clear that the corner of the room would have air the longest after the pressure finally equalized.

"I'm going to give it a go!" The Doctor shouted, sputtering as the water rushed over him, less frantic than it had been before. "Geronimo!" He yelled gleefully as he forced himself forward into the waterfall and then disappeared completely. The Professor was having a hard time keeping them both afloat and he doubted that he could get them through by sheer force as the Doctor had done. He would have to wait until the current calmed.

"Here," He said, grabbing for Fitz's legs where they dangled uselessly in his way. "Wrap your legs around me!"

"_Excuse _me?" Fitz looked up at him, refreshingly _not_ afraid. Well, that was one way to keep her calm.

"Just do it!" He ordered her. "I can't keep treading water with your legs in the way!" She eyed him for a moment longer, suspicious to the last, but ultimately decided she did, in fact, want to make swimming easier on him. She pulled herself up by his shoulders and wrapped her legs behind his back. He swallowed, realizing, a little belatedly, just _how_ close she was now.

"What are you two bloody _doing_?" Donna said from over Fitz's shoulder. "Not really the _time_ is it?"

"She can't swim!" The Professor was happy to use Donna as an excuse to not look directly at Fitz. The rush of the water had finally reduced so it wasn't the incredibly loud roar that it had been. Donna shrugged disbelievingly.

"Alright, I'm gonna give it a go." She pulled herself along, using the ceiling as a grip and then with a splash she vanished. With Donna's disappearance, the door slipped beneath the surface of the water and they were left in the relatively quiet remainder of the room.

"Are you ready?" He asked, finally not needing to yell to be heard.

"Not really." Fitz said miserably. Her face was taut; in fact, her whole body was rigid against him.

"Hey," He said softly, bringing one hand back behind her neck so that she would look at him. "I've _got _you." She met his eyes again, that fear still festering, but she trusted him. She swallowed and nodded.

"Thanks." She took a deep breath and he felt her viselike grip start to relax. Something else shifted across her features, something he didn't quite understand until she closed the distance between them, pressing her soft lips against his own. He responded immediately, which came as a bit of a surprise, but he didn't let that stop him from parting her lips with his own. For a moment, he forgot that he was supposed to be treading water and he brought his other hand up behind her back, pulling her closer against him. But she withdrew quickly, well, quicker than he would have _liked_ anyway.

"For luck." She said sheepishly, very much avoiding the hungry gaze he was giving her now.

"Right," He said, a knowing grin spreading over his face. "For _luck_." Their air bubble was rapidly shrinking, and while he had decidedly _other_ things on his mind now, he thought it would be best not to linger any longer. "Deep breath." He warned as he swam to the edge of the air pocket. "And don't let go." She nodded and they both sucked in their last breath before diving beneath the surface. The water was murky, but not enough that he couldn't see the door as he swam toward it, Fitz still clinging to him resolutely. He pushed through the small gap and used his legs to kick against the side of the ship, he could see the sun sparkling up overhead, they didn't look to be too deep at all, but there were inconsistent splotches casting shadows.

He realized, almost too late, as one grazed against his head, that things were falling into the river above them. Mostly rocks, some kind of crumbled architecture that they had plowed into. None of it was too difficult to dodge as they slowly made their way to the surface, but then the sun was blocked out completely. He jerked backward; it became clear it was a piece of paneling from the ship, a _large_ piece. He didn't realize Fitz's grip had become looser until she started to drift away from him. Her eyes and mouth were still scrunched tightly shut and she didn't see the panel as it sluiced through the water at them.

"Fitz!" He shouted, his voice and air being swallowed by the river itself. He dove after her as she realized she had lost her grip, her eyes opening quite suddenly. The panel fell into his shoulder with surprising speed and he felt himself spinning around in the water, for a moment unsure of which direction was up and now desperate for air. He pushed against the panel as he righted himself, searching for Fitz where he thought he had seen her last, but she was _gone_.

_Bloody _stupid_ human_.

Spinning in place, it was impossible to see any real distance through the sediment that was now swirling around him. He needed to breathe; he needed to breathe five seconds ago. With an inward curse he threw himself toward the surface, his aching muscles screaming at the sudden rush and he nearly swallowed as much water as he managed to breathe air when he finally made it.

"I've lost her!" He shouted to where he could see the Doctor pulling Donna up on the concrete banks of the river.

"What?" The Doctor frowned at him.

"Fitz!" He was impatient now, focusing on getting his breath back so he could dive below the surface again. "She can't _swim_. I lost my grip!" He admitted the last part haughtily. He had _told_ her it was going to be _alright_. He had _promised_ that. Why did she let go? How could he _lose_ her? He dove back beneath the surface, feeling a clawing desperation in his gut. He kicked and forced his way back down to the ship and the panel that had lodged itself vertically in the rocks below. She had to be here somewhere. He vowed that he wasn't coming back up without her, but there was no sign. The echoes of the sonic screwdriver nagged for his attention but he ignored it, probably the Doctor scanning uselessly…

For _life_.

His head jerked back up, the green blip just visible next to the glowing yellow orb that was the sun. And a shadow in the water. _Two _shadows. He abandoned his fruitless search and returned to the surface, shaking his head violently so that he could see.

_There_, there was Donna, swimming back toward the Doctor; she was downstream from him now. Of _course_, the current had carried her away. Fitz was in her grip, but she was bobbing along on her back. He swam for them now, fast as he could.

"_Always_ trust the sonic." The Doctor waggled the screwdriver in his hand as the Professor caught up with Donna, he noticed with dismay that Fitz wasn't moving.

"You guys sure know how to ruin a space ship." Jack called from above them, standing on what looked to be the remains of an old bridge, bits of it were splashing into the river below. Amy and Rory too, were inspecting the damage as they walked down the stairs to their level. "You guys alright?" Jack asked, concern in his voice as he saw Donna and the Professor both working to lift Fitz onto the shore. The Professor dragged himself up over the concrete ledge, despite his protesting muscles. The Doctor had pulled Fitz a little away from the river and was scanning her with the sonic intently; his cheerful face finally lapsed into seriousness.

"She's not breathing." The Professor said angrily, realizing that Fitz was looking far too similar to the memory of her dead father.

"It's alright, I've got it." Rory said as he took the stairs at a jog.

"Fitz, wake _up_." The Professor hissed at her, shaking her shoulder violently, as though by sheer anger alone he could force her to rise. Rory reached his side then and started to pull him away. "_Don't_ touch me!" He shouted, looking and sounding like a feral animal. He gripped Rory by his shirt; the man could consider himself _lucky_ that he hadn't just thought to grab him by the throat.

"I'm a nurse." Rory explained in a calm tone with his hands out defensively. "I can _help_."

With a scowl, the Professor finally released him, "Do it." He ordered, shifting slightly to give Rory room to work. Rory tilted her head back and scooped out a leaf that had found its way into her throat before plugging her nose and breathing air into her lungs. Her chest rose and fell, but then remained still. Rory took another deep breath and tried once more; the Professor watched alertly and was finally rewarded when Fitz's hand twitched. Then her whole body jerked and she let out a series of wet coughs, water spilling out from her lips. She rolled to her side, choking up the murky river. The Professor let out a relieved sound and clapped Rory on the back, who looked a little more nervous now that his job was done.

"Thanks." He said gruffly, Rory just gave a short nod.

"Atta boy, Rory the nurse!" The Doctor clapped enthusiastically.

"Let's not do that again." Fitz said weakly as she pushed herself up to her hands and knees.

"_Agreed_." Donna said mildly, she was now sprawled on her back, exhausted from the past hour. The Professor went to help Fitz up but she pushed his hand away.

"Scuse me." She said, crawling miserably toward the edge of the concrete. "Gonna be sick."


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Alright, so let's all keep in mind that this is a _very _T rated chapter. Just, you know. As a warning. Also, as a point of interest. You should check out my blog! Because it's full of interesting things and facts about dinosaurs and faster than light travel.**

**No, that's a lie. It's boring. And mostly about writing. **

**But you should check it anyway! totallywritless . blogspot . com.**

* * *

><p>"<em>I will surprise you sometime. I'll come around. Oh, I will surprise you sometime. I'll come around when you're down..."<em>

He was still holding my hand tightly with his own. In fact, he hadn't let go since I was able to stand up. It was almost like he was _convinced _I was going to try and find another way to get myself killed. Maybe another nosedive into the river, maybe taking a swing at an alien life form. Maybe just run into a tree going fast enough. At this point, I couldn't really blame him, because it seemed like anything _was _possible.

Of course, I _hoped_ he was holding my hand for different reasons entirely.

But the fact that I was some kind of literal death magnet was probably what he had in mind. Still though, every now and then he would look over his shoulder at me and I couldn't help but shiver. It wasn't a 'can't you stay out of trouble' look. It was something else, something that kept my hopes just barely alive.

We were in the TARDIS now. The Doctor seemed to think the alien's intent to destroy the planet was going to draw some unwanted attention to the area, so he was focused on getting us out of there. He ran around the center console, spinning dials and controls that I had no idea what they did. Donna was still looking a little woozy, so she had sat down. Rory was trying to take care of both her and the Professor, who had finally released my hand. The Professor had taken a nasty gash to the head from where he had a run in with a bit of the falling bridge.

That had been my fault.

But hell, what _wasn't _my fault at this point?

I leaned against the railing and took a slow breath, it didn't matter. We were safe now. No thanks to my inability to hold on to someone when I was told to. But you know, still safe.

Sometimes I _really_ wondered about my survival instincts.

I looked up and realized he was watching me, despite Rory dabbing at his forehead with bandages. I wanted to look away, but I really couldn't. Those amber eyes were locked on me and I was trapped. Some kind of cyclone of doom existed in that man's gaze, and I was completely caught in it. Maybe he was a vampire. Vampires could hypnotize people, right? I felt sure I had read that somewhere. When he saw me looking back, he smiled. It was a _knowing_ smile. An entirely _too_ confident smile. And it made my heart race like an ensnared animal. Could vampires do _that_? Make you think wildly inappropriate thoughts from across the room? Well, sure. They _hypnotized_ you, that _was_ the _point_ wasn't it? They could do whatever they damn well wanted to.

I had _only_ kissed him for luck. And I had _only_ repeated that to myself at least a dozen times since I had done it. But I believed it, right? No. That was utter crap. What was the point of being impulsive if you couldn't even enjoy it? I had kissed him because I was pretty certain I was going to die in that water. And because I had just plain _wanted_ to.

I mean, I also wanted a pony, and to walk across the Great Wall of China. But my options had been somewhat _limited_ at the time.

"So, what, _exactly_, happened up there?" The Doctor's voice was suddenly tearing me away from my thoughts. Which were not at _all_ thinking about how the Professor's arms felt wrapped around me. Instead, they were abruptly more focused on the Doctor's eyes, and how incredibly _furious_ they were. And they were hovering directly in front of me. Jesus, what was it with time lords and eyes?

"I don't know." I said frowning. It was a fairly honest response. I mean. I had _suspicions_. But I didn't think it was a good idea to tell him that there was a time lord in my brain, who's power source was the necklace my boyfriend…_ex-boyfriend_? Had given me. And maybe this hypothetical time lord had something to do with my sudden mutant abilities when that necklace had been threatened. Because, frankly, it sounded crazy even to _me_. Other than the fact that it didn't really make any sense, I was pretty sure the whole 'time lord in my head' bit was still supposed to be under wraps.

"No?" The Doctor didn't seem to believe me. "What about your hallucinations then? Or the fact that the Joulex suddenly seemed interested in you without a biodamp? Or why the Professor tracked you down in the first place? Any theories about _those_?" He searched my eyes intently but I did my best to only show him my growing annoyance, because boy, he was _seriously_ starting to piss me off. "You know the hospital we're headed to? For your _hallucinations_? It's funny, because, they don't specialize in neurology. Do you know what they _do _specialize in?" He seemed to think I had some secret plan that involved hospitals. Hah. That was a laugh. Mostly because I didn't know what else you _could_ specialize in at a hospital. Heart…ology? Cardiology! Hah! I got one.

Not really what I should be focused on though…

"No, I _don't_." If he could get angry, so could I. Where was my 'thank you'? "Why don't _you _tell _me_, Captain Kirk?" I had just nearly _died_. _He_ had nearly died. Hell, _everyone_ had nearly died. I wasn't in the mood to play his little quiz show.

"Leave her alone." The Professor swept between us, half a bandage dangling from his head. Rory looked a bit annoyed that his patient had wandered away, but knew better than to interrupt whatever stand off the two time lords were intent on having. The Doctor's eyes darted to the Professor and then back to me.

"They _specialize_ in molecular _Flesh_ replication." He looked quite smug about that, but my blank face revealed nothing.

"What the _hell_ is that?" I glared. Okay, so not _entirely_ blank, I was still all kinds of cranky, and in addition to not being in the mood for the Spanish inquisition, I also wasn't up for his science techno babble. That seemed to satisfy the Doctor that I didn't know what was going on. _Or_, he thought I was a steel trap through which no evidence could be pried. Probably the first one though. His eyes, dark and stormy, turned to the Professor.

"What do you need with a _body_, Professor?"

"Flesh?" Amy asked from where she was sitting, "You mean, like, _the_ Flesh?" She looked upset about the idea, so did Rory for that matter. He crossed the console to put his arm around her shoulder. What the hell was _the_ Flesh? And why was everyone freaking out. I mean, flesh was a gross word. But I suspected that was just something _I_ was weird about.

"Yes, Amy. One in the same." The Doctor said over his shoulder. "_Dangerous_ stuff."

"Give it a rest," The Professor growled at him. "It's just a hospital. One that does specialize in parasitic disease. If you had bothered to _look_." Well, he _had_ done his research. Or at least, he _sounded_ like he had. Go team Professor!

"Give it a rest?" The Doctor, if anything, looked _angrier_. And for a silly man with a bow tie, he could look _very_ angry. "I've brought you onto this ship, and I'm _responsible _for the people here. The people I _care _about. And you're _hiding_ something." His sharp eyes turned to me as well and he pointed a stern finger. "_She's_ hiding something. And I want to know what it is!" The whole ship had gone deadly quiet in the wake of the Doctor's booming voice. Even Jack had stopped mid conversation on his earpiece.

"She also saved your _life_. Along with everyone else here. She nearly _died_ to do it." Where the Doctor's voice had risen in volume, the Professor's had stayed quiet, but his tone had grown sharper, almost lethal. "So _yes_, maybe you can _give it a rest_ until she's had a break." They both looked ready to strangle each other, which didn't really surprise me coming from the Professor. But the Doctor's fury _did_. In getting to know him the past week, he hadn't struck me as a violent man. He seemed, well…_silly_. Somewhere in my mind, despite what the Professor had told me, I had labeled him as _harmless_. But that didn't seem to be the case, especially not now when his face looked like a mask of rage.

"He's right." Donna said softly, placing her hand on the Doctor's shoulder. That sobered him slightly, shooting a brief glance at her. "Maybe let her clean up. Get some sleep. I'm sure we can have a shout just as easy tomorrow." Thanks Donna. Something to look forward to. Although I could definitely get being the whole 'clean' plan. The river water, however clean _that_ was, had washed away most of the blue crap. But it was still crusted in my hair, under my nails, and I was pretty sure, in my _ears. Ugh._

The Doctor's anger slowly melted away, he held his jaw stiffly as he leveled the Professor with an even gaze. He looked like he was chewing on the decision for a moment before finally giving a short nod and stepping back from us.

"Come on." The Professor said gruffly, taking my hand in his own and turning away from the Doctor to lead me down the hall. No one stopped us as we went, but I could feel everyone's eyes boring down on us. It wasn't exactly a reassuring thought. We took the now familiar path to my room, the bunk beds still jutting out from the wall where I had seen them last. The Professor stepped aside so I could go in, but I hesitated in the doorway.

"Maybe we should just _tell_ them." I said, not quite looking him in the face. I didn't want to tell them, remembering the Doctor's cold fury _still_ sent a shiver down my spine. Jesus _Christ_ I didn't want to. But I also didn't want to start world war three aboard the Starship Enterprise. Especially since I was prone to all kinds of unfortunate damage.

"We will." He reassured me. "When _I _tell you it's safe."

Oh, so _that's_ how it was going to be? I wasn't a fan of that commanding 'do as I say' tone. I briefly envisioned storming back down the hall, shouting out exactly what was going on. But my over active imagination saw that ending in a whole lot of violence, so I kept my mouth shut. Or at least, I didn't go telling everyone.

"Well, try not to get _shanked_ in the process of deciding, okay?" It sounded snide, but it was probably sound advice for someone like him.

"I'll do that." He rolled his eyes. "Get cleaned up. I'll see if I can find something for you to eat." And with that, he disappeared down the hall.

I wasn't so sure about his eating plan, swallowing, and then immediately after, _unswallowing_ a stomach full of river water had kind of killed my appetite. But getting in the shower was definitely something I was interested in. I had forgotten how cold I was until the warmth of the bathroom surrounded me. The water was instantly hot when I turned it on. God I _loved_ this bathroom. I peeled away my soggy clothing and put them in a neat pile. It didn't seem to matter where I left my cloths, they always vanished abruptly, and then mysteriously appeared back in the closet, clean like I had never worn them. Still though, it seemed rude to just leave them scattered about. I left my glasses on the counter, knowing that they needed a serious washing of their own before stepping into the steaming water.

I stayed in the shower until my fingers had started to go pruney. I also went through an excessive amount of soap and shampoo. Along with an inordinate amount of scrubbing. I wasn't quite as vicious as I was after the 'dream room', it felt like nothing could scrub my skin clean after _that_ incident, but my skin was certainly fresh and pink when I was done. It was important that I wasn't going to find any of the blue sludge sneaking up on me later. I didn't need reminding that the 'blue jello', as I had so cavalierly dubbed it, was actually _innards_. Blue, alien, innards. Yeah, I wanted _all_ of that off.

When I was finally finished, I went through three towels, one to dry out my hair, another to dry myself, and the last to wrap around me like a warm fluffy robe. It was glorious how everything was so nice and _toasty_ in this place. I could really use a bathroom like this back home, or maybe some portable version to take with me. Just like those tents that collapse and then fold out to size. I'm sure that could happen. Somehow. My hand reached out to smear the condensation away from the mirror, but of course, there _wasn't_ any.

Instead, I could see my reflection clearly. My white hair was a little darker now that it was wet, but still, _stupidly_ white. Along with the rest of my skin for that matter, it was like I had some serious allergy to the sun. Normally I didn't really mind, or at least, I _told_ myself I didn't. But now there were dark purple marks where the creature had wrapped its arms around my throat, angry blotches with nowhere to hide on my paper colored skin.

"Sheesh." I said, letting my gaze drop to the necklace at my throat. That _thing _had saved me, and then left me to die. What had been the difference? Whatever. It didn't matter. I wasn't going to let myself freak out about it. I left the glasses on the counter, not quite willing to put the effort into cleaning them yet. They'd be harder later, but, oh well. Nothing could bother me, I felt calm, serene, and relaxed. Nothing in the world could touch me again. I seriously needed this portable bathroom of glory. One crappy day, and then presto chango! I could be _reborn_.

"Have a nice time in there?"

"Gah!" I'm sure there was something more intelligent that I _could_ have said, but the Professor had rocked my tranquility right to _crap_. _And_ I was only wearing a towel. A towel I was now clutching fiercely around myself, as though my life _depended _on wearing that towel.

"I'll take that as a yes." He said with a smirk on his face. When was he _not_ smirking at my expense? I suppose he hadn't smirked when I had kissed- No. Shut up. So _not_ the train of thought I want to be having right now. He was sitting at the table near the middle of the room, a tray of edibles at his elbow. He was also between me and a graceful retreat to the closet.

"You couldn't _knock_ or something?" I snapped irritably. Trying to inch my way toward the closet without looking like I was watching him like a hawk. Because I totally _was_.

"Well," He shrugged. "I _did_. But _someone_ thought it was best to take two-hours to get _clean_. I didn't want to look like some stranger _lurking_ in the hallway." He took a bite off the small apple that was on the tray.

"Right. Because it's way _less_ creepy to bust into my room when I'm _showering_." I rolled my eyes and headed toward the closet while he was distracted by fruit. The whole thing was intimidating and enormous, and yet everything seemed to have a place. Much better than my closet back home which was more…piles of clean things, and piles of _mostly_ clean things. With items that I never wore on a hanger. "You couldn't have just _left _food?" I said as I tried to make sense of the order. Where could I find something to _sleep _in? Skirts, dresses, cardigan, jeans. Where the hell was the sweatpants section in this place?

"What? And miss your undying _gratitude_?" He sounded less than enthusiastic about my attitude. Well. He had ruined my zen! What did he expect me to act like! Ah! T-shirt! Progress.

"Look." I sighed, backing out of the closet and heading toward the bathroom again, maybe that would give him the hint to leave. "I _do_ appreciate it. Really. And thank you for being there when I was totally losing my shit back there." Yes, I had transformed into a gibbering nine year old at the prospect of drowning. And no, he _hadn't_ mocked me ruthlessly. That didn't mean he wasn't _going_ to. "You just startled me is all. Still, you know, lurking in my _room_."

"I just wanted to make sure you were _okay_." He shrugged.

Oh, was that what this was about? I thought I saw his eyes flick to the necklace around my throat. Earth girl had another near death experience; let's make sure the time lord isn't going to drop in by surprise.

"Well I'm _fine_." I said rudely. I dropped the t-shirt on the bed and stormed over to where he was sitting. Like I _really _needed the constant reminder that I was going completely off my rails. "I'm not going to reveal your big _secret _ahead of time, so if that's what you're worried about, you can go hover somewhere _else_! I'll give you a call if I'm going to turn all _diabolical_." My glare was just the perfect amount of acidity as I started back for the bathroom. But he was quick. _Too_ damn quick. He snatched my arm and held me rooted to the spot. Fortunately, he hadn't grabbed the hand I still had wrapped around my towel. Thank god for small favors.

"_Hey_." He hissed, forcing me to turn back around. "I don't care about the Doctor, or the time lord in your head, or whatever other _nonsense_ you've made up." It was a little harder to believe him with his tone. "You nearly _drowned_. I wanted to make sure you were _alright_." His voice had dropped then, and something flickered in his eyes. Why did it look like _fear_? Like he really _was_ worried about me. Why did that make _me_ so uncomfortable? And when had he gotten so close?

"I'm always alright." I muttered, standing awkwardly with his hand still around my wrist.

"I can _see_ that." He gave a wry grin.

"Then…why are you _here_?" I asked him exasperated, pulling my arm out of his grip finally, but unable to step back. His hand came up to my throat, just brushing against the bruises before resting against my jaw.

"I don't know." He said throatily. Don't look into his eyes, _don't look_- God dammit. If I ever _did_ run into vampires, I was good as dead. His uncertainty frightened me more than his anger from only a moment before. But that wolfish look in his eyes was _anything_ but uncertain.

"Well _that's_ reassuring." I said, trying to force myself to laugh. Anything to break the slowly growing silence. This wasn't an impulsive plan to escape alien droids, and this wasn't a last minute 'I'm going to die' moment. This was in my _bedroom_. And I was in a _towel_.

"Fitz." He said warningly, his eyes were _so _brown and _so _dangerous.

"What?" I said, I could look dangerous. Well, I could _try_. "What do you _want_?" The hand at my jaw suddenly slid up into my hair, wrapping tightly behind my head, whatever distance we'd had between us was very much gone as he pulled me to him. He hesitated, for just one moment, as I looked up at him. With my heart drumming in my chest, I didn't stop him. I wasn't sure if I _could_. Or more importantly, why would I _want _to?

And then his lips covered mine, the hand that held my hair now caressing the back of my neck, causing all my nerves to tingle at once. He started out gently, but then it became _more_, deeper, _fiercer_. Almost desperate in the way he seemed to be breathing me in. His tongue parted my lips, probing and exploring, causing all sorts of maddening sensations. I found myself wrapping my arms around his neck, my fingers digging into his back, needing his support to keep me standing. My leg, unbidden, started to slide up his and he caught it with his other hand, fingers sliding up along the outside of my thigh. My lips felt like they were on fire, hell, so did _everything_ else.

He finally broke away and I realized I was breathing much harder than I had been a moment before. He placed a kiss along my jaw, causing me to tilt my head to give him better access.

"Do you really need me to answer that?" He murmured huskily, placing more kisses against my throat. The pain from the bruises seemed to melt away under his warm breath. Had I asked a question? A million years ago?

"No." I whispered, suddenly remembering. It was much more difficult than it sounds, since every voice in my head was currently chanting 'yes'.

"I knew you were smarter than you looked." He leaned back a moment to grin at me. Self satisfied _prick_. I realized that the only thing still holding up my towel was his body pressed so firmly against mine. But that didn't matter as he pushed me backward and we fell onto the mattress behind me.

"Oh shut up, _Professor_." I mumbled, wrapping my hands in his hair and pulling him closer. He broke away from another kiss and looked me closely in the eyes.

"Koschei." He said, kissing my collarbone, making his way to the edge of where the towel still lay across me.

"What?" His lips were distracting, but not so much that I didn't want to know what kind of nonsense he was sputtering about.

"Call me Koschei. My name." His finger slowly slid under the edge of the towel and peeled it away, each fiber that dragged across my skin caused a train of goose bumps as it went.

"Alright Koschei. Do you ever _shut up_?" I asked, patience was never really a virtue of mine. Well, I'm not sure I _had_ any virtues at this point, but good _god_ man, get to the _point_.

"If you insist." He grinned down at me and covered my mouth hungrily with his own. And for just a few blissful moments, I forgot all about the insanity of the past week.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: I know, I know. It's short. And mostly transition. You're still my special snowflakes!**

* * *

><p>"<em>But I cannot deceive you, this was never planned. I know that you're the right girl but do you think that I am the right man?"<em>

He woke with a start, his body jerking with the realization that he had fallen _asleep_. When the _hell _had he done that? His eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room, he didn't remember turning down the lights either. Then a warm body shifted under his arm, rolling closer against him. _Fitz_.

It all came back quickly then, and rather…_graphically_ detailed. He looked down at the white hair that was sprawled across her face as a strand of it bobbed in and out with her steady breathing. He felt a smirk pull at his lips. That had been…_unexpected_, to say the least. Certainly, a _pleasant_ surprise. But perhaps, not the _wisest_ course of action, given their present circumstances. It didn't matter though, it wouldn't _change_ anything. He was still determined to help resolve her problem, perhaps even _more_ so now, _if_ he were willing to admit it. But he had promised to help her. Nothing changed. He rose from the bed, nearly striking his head on the frame above him.

_Bloody bunk beds_. He scowled and swore, thinking of the Doctor and his inane preference for _silly_ things.

_The Doctor_. Ah. That _might_ make things more complicated. He brushed away some of the hair from Fitz's face carefully as he looked down at her. No, of course it wouldn't. There was no _reason_ for the Doctor to know about this. What he did with his own time was _his_ personal business. _Not_ the Doctor's. No matter how many _favors_ he had done him. He didn't have any _right_ to know. And if anyone was going to make a fuss about this, it would be the Doctor.

He stumbled around in the dark, searching for his clothes. Besides, it wasn't like it really _mattered_. He told himself, slapping on the lights, searching for his other boot. This was _nothing_, just a fling. A matter of convenience. She was _human_ after all, just a bit of _fun_.

"Koschei…" She muttered as she rolled toward the wall, pulling the blankets over her head. He froze as he pulled on his boots. _That_ he had done impulsively. But that was _wrong_. He _wasn't_ impulsive. Not by a long shot. He was conniving, thoughtful, and meticulous. And he _certainly_ wasn't carefree with sharing that name. So what did that _mean_? Was he _lying_ to himself? What had possessed him to tell her his old title? "Turn out the damn lights." She muttered, trying to bury her face beneath the pillow.

He smirked, shaking his head as he stuffed his foot into the last boot. Maybe he shouldn't look too deeply into this. Whatever _this _was, he _liked_ it. That was all he needed to admit to himself. For now.

"Certainly _princess._" He said with a sneer as he dimmed the lamps once more. He thought he heard a muffled 'thanks' from the shadowy lump on the bed, but he couldn't be sure. He'd let her sleep, he didn't want to find out, _again_, how much trouble she could cause because of lack of rest. He left the food on the table as he went, they hadn't exactly gotten around to _eating_. Perhaps she could manage when she did finally wake up.

The door slid shut behind him quietly and he was about to make his way to his own room when he turned to see Donna walking around the corner, a mug of tea in her hands. She quirked her eyebrow up as her gaze flicked between the door and himself. Donna the half time lord. Half of the infuriatingly _inquisitive_ version of the last Doctor that he wasn't entirely sorry to see gone.

"Making sure she's settled?" She asked casually.

"Yes, I've brought her some food." His words were curt. He _certainly_ didn't need to explain himself to _this _particular freak of nature. He started to walk past her, and for a moment, it seemed like she would let him.

"Oh, sure." She said with false cheer. "That tray Amy saw you with. What was that, maybe two hours ago?" He stopped in his tracks. Two _hours_? How had he managed to sleep for two _bloody_ hours. Although, he thought ruefully, not all of that time had been _sleeping_ exactly. With his jaw held tense, he turned back to her.

"Yes." He said sharply. "Is that a _problem_?"

"No. Not at all." She shook her head, as though her intentions were entirely innocent. "It's just…_well_." She made a shrugging gesture.

"Well _what_?" He snapped. She didn't look like she was taking his foul temper very well, but that served her right, sticking her nose where it wasn't wanted.

"_Well_. She's a nice girl. Have you _thought_ about what you're doing? Mixing her up in all this…time lord garbage?" Hah. That was a _laugh_, he hadn't had anything to do with _that_. Of course, Donna didn't really _know_ that.

"She made that decision _herself_." He said, his scowl still fixed carefully on Donna.

"Sure, but when this is all over with? After it's done, she can still _leave_. But if you keep leading her on like this, what's going to happen? Have you even thought about that? Have you thought about _her _at all? Or are you just going to have your fun and then toss her back where you found her?" Donna's glare was reproving and her arms crossed over her chest.

"What business is it of _yours_?" He growled. He didn't like the implications Donna was making, but he certainly wasn't going to refute them. Even _he_ wasn't entirely sure what the answer was, but he wasn't about to tell _her _that.

She shrugged, unimpressed with the dangerous glitter in his eyes. "It's not, I just thought you could use some friendly advice."

"I suppose the _Doctor_ suggested that to you, did he?" He could feel his annoyance growing. Always meddling in the affairs of others, why couldn't he just keep his 'better than thou' opinions to himself?

Donna just snorted at him. "Even I'm not bloody _stupid_ enough to tell him about your _fraternizing_." She was sure to put the word fraternizing in finger quotes, as though he could be uncertain as to _what_ she was implying. "He'd have you floating out in space faster than you could say 'Geronimo'."She seemed quite amused by the idea.

"I doubt that."

"You forget, I've seen in his head. I don't think he's quite ready for the idea of you being so…_friendly_ with Fitz. Certainly not all over _his_ TARDIS." She laughed again.

"It's not _like _that." He hissed at her, for some reason he didn't _like _the idea of Donna talking about Fitz like she was some kind of…space tart.

"Yeah spaceman? What's it _like_ then?" Donna looked at him with a disbelieving eyebrow raised.

"I-" What could he say? He still couldn't explain it to himself. But it _certainly_ wasn't whatever Donna was implying. There was more to it than that, he knew that because he had told her his name, he _trusted_ her. That was frightening all on its own. Donna's face started to droop into a frown, as though recognizing his turmoil. Just what he needed, _another_ meddling time lord. "I don't have to explain myself to _you_." He said with disdain as he pushed past her.

"I'm not sure you _could_." She said a little doubtfully, but he pushed the thought away. He already had plenty of his own troubles to deal with.


	20. Chapter 20

"_This is the time of night when the moonlight shines down, and we can reveal who we truly are. Within the darkest most depraved of joys."_

Was it morning _already_? I felt like I could sleep for at _least_ another week.

"Gurgle." Said my stomach.

So, no then. It _wasn't_ morning. But it _was_ apparently time for me to eat something. I guess river water isn't as nutritional as all those fish make it out to be. Bleh. I hate fish. So damn superior with their whole 'I can swim _and_ breathe underwater' scam. Jerks.

I rolled over in the bed, the noticeably _empty_ bed. Did that surprise me? No, not really. Did it _disappoint_ me? Sure, but I was going to pretend it _didn't, _for the sake of my self-esteem. Although, as I stretched my arm out, it _did_ feel warm, as though someone _had _been there not too long ago. But maybe that was just wishful thinking.

My stomach reminded me, _loudly_, that it didn't give a damn about my wishes, or personal feelings. It wanted to be _fed_. And _now._

"Alright, alright." I grumbled. At myself. As I pushed myself out of bed, I was reminded that I didn't have a stitch of clothing on. I grabbed the towel that had fallen to the floor, wrapping it around myself. I didn't like wandering around the room so exposed. Who _knows_ what was lurking in this place? Oh, that's right. _I_ knew. Time lords. Pervy, sort of handsome, sometimes dickish, time lords.

Oh, who was I kidding? _I_ was the pervy one. Something about his eyes made me feel all…explodey inside. I caught myself staring into space, thinking about just _how _intensely focused those eyes had been last night when my stomach roared once more.

"Yes, yes. I _heard_ you." I gave my stomach a solid slap for interrupting my train of thought. Even if they needed to be interrupted. Clothing first, then food. I stumbled over to the closet, hostile aliens or not, I really _should _have gotten that stinking croissant. I suppose it would have just ended up in the river, like the rest of the contents of my stomach.

The closet loomed, just as intimidating as it always was. But, I found what I needed right up front. Jeans and a sweater. Actually, come to think of it, it _hadn't_ been very cooperative last night. Why did it only just now occur to me? Why hadn't I found a set of pj's where I always did? What the _hell_ was this machine up to? I glared at it, while I was dressing. As though I expected an answer. Until I realized I was glaring. At a _closet_.

Well. At least I already _knew_ I was crazy. I had hit rock bottom of _that_ particular well. No need to worry about it getting any _worse_.

I inspected myself in the mirror as I finished. Jeans were always a mainstay. In fact, I don't think I would have put up with all of this nonsense very well if there _hadn't_ been jeans. Did it bother me that they seemed to fit perfectly, no matter what I grabbed randomly off the shelf? Sure. It freaked me right out. But at this point, my 'freak out' list was enormously long; so this problem was kind of at the bottom. And really, it was _nice_ to finally find a pair of jeans that fit so _well_. Don't judge me. It's a problem.

The sweater was a nice shade of emerald, and thick too. Which was nice, the TARDIS was always a little drafty. It was a good color on me, Lucas always said it made my eyes pop.

Lucas.

My _boyfriend_.

Oops. Forgot about _him_ didn't we?

Well. _Shit_.

Now not only was hunger gnawing at my gut, there was guilt as well. _Lots_ of guilt. So I had gotten carried away, who wouldn't have? I _was_ crazy after all. I had been attacked in the street. Also been _kidnapped_ by aliens, and choked out by…_more_ aliens. I'd had more run-ins with death this past week than I could shake a stick at. Whatever that expression was implying. The _point_ was, there had been a ridiculous amount of stress and insanity going on recently. Besides, hadn't I been _meaning_ to end it with him? Hadn't _I _just asked myself if I was still been dating Lucas because of his close proximity to my work place? Didn't that sort of make what I did semi-understandable?

Nope. That just makes me a real _shitty_ girlfriend. Full of shitty excuses.

It was nice that all of the voices in my head had joined in, and, for the _first_ time, were in complete agreement. It _wasn't_ so great _what_ they had finally agreed on. I, as a person, _sucked_. Oh well. I didn't really have the time for _another_ mental breakdown. That could wait until later. What couldn't wait? Good. God. _Food_. Food couldn't wait.

I didn't _deserve_ food. I was a _monster_. I was a shitty shitty craptastical whore of a monster. With crap on _top_ of that. I lifted the lid off the tray that was still left behind last night, busy with mentally abusing myself. Because I was just _full_ of suck, and general horribleness.

Half eaten apple? No. I could still taste the apple on my lips, thank you very much. I didn't need a more physical reminder of my scumbag behavior. But there were scones too. Scones were good. With jam! Even better. And…

A croissant.

I felt a smile sneaking in to my mask of misery, and a slightly giddy feeling fighting through the fog. _No! _My most disapproving voice screamed. _You're a shitbag! You don't get to be _excited_ about this!_

It was too late. I kind of was. What did it mean? I wondered. It probably meant that there had been a croissant in the kitchen last night. Along with scones. _Idiot_. Sure, but what _could_ it mean? You know, that maybe, somewhere in his black little heart, he kind of, sort of…_like liked_ me? Oh. Who knows. That's stupid anyway. But my foul mood wasn't quite as nasty as it had been. I sat down and got busy with the eating. If I wanted to live in my little fantasy world where I wasn't a hooker for cheating on my boyfriend. And the guy I had cheated _with,_ might actually be…thoughtful? Then so be it. It was loads easier than continuing to shout at myself.

I'm sure I had plenty of that to look forward to anyway. Yelling.

_Although_, Mr. Thoughtful _had_ forgotten a rather important element of the meal. Something to _drink_. I was just as surprised that I would _ever_ want to see water again, but the scones were pretty dry, and there was very little the jam could do to keep my throat from dehydrating completely. I was going to have to venture out into the world. Or the halls of the TARDIS anyway. I wandered into the bathroom before I went, picking up my glasses. Realizing they were _sharply_ detailed. In fact, I was pretty sure there were some scratches on my lenses that were _missing_. God, this place was just so _spooky_ sometimes.

Saved me the trouble of reliving the blue goop though, so I could hardly complain. I grabbed the croissant before I left, munching as I went. Surely, no one could yell at me while I was _eating, _right? That was just poor form. Even for aliens.

I made my way down to the kitchen, as stealthily as I could. Which wasn't stealthy at all, but I didn't run into anyone, so I'll pretend it was my ninja skills. Those skills _didn't_ prepare me for the figure already in the kitchen. I stuffed the croissant into my mouth defensively, but relaxed when I realized it was just Rory.

"Oh, hello." He said brightly, pouring some coffee into a mug before sitting down at the cheery yellow table.

"Hey." I said, slightly muffled by the food in my mouth. I kept my head down anyway, I wasn't sure _who_ I should be wary of.

"Thought you'd be sound asleep by now." Rory said casually. "What, with the near drowning and all." He smiled at his own joke. I was starting to suspect he _wasn't_ one of the people I needed to be worried about.

"Yeah, so did I. But I guess near-death brings out my appetite." I opened nearly all of the drawers, looking for a mug similar to Rory's. Or a glass. Or really _anything_ that could contain water. A deep plate would do at this point. Why was the closet so easy and the kitchen such a pain? "Couldn't really sleep."

"Yeah. Me neither. Still got a bit of the jet lag. We just came from Egypt. Funny how draining airplanes can be. Never thought I'd _miss_ the TARDIS." He said thoughtfully as he stood up, noticing my failure at finding anything other than a pack of Dixie cups. He pulled open the door nearest the table and produced another mug for me. "The kitchen wirings a bit off. Amy keeps telling the Doctor to have a look at it." He shrugged as he sat back down.

"Thanks." I said, having no idea what that could _possibly_ mean. In the normal world, the wiring being off meant that the blender might blow out the circuit breakers in the house. In this world? Somehow, it was relevant to my inability to find cups. Something to keep in mind if I ever became an intergalactic electrician. I filled up my cup and then realized I should probably make a little more effort at conversation, since I specifically remember Rory being the one who had been looming over my face when I had finally come to. "Also, thanks for the whole, saving me from drowning, thing." I said. A little underwhelming.

"Oh, no problem." He said with a grin. "It's _nice_ to actually be _useful_ every now and then." His face fell a little as he looked at me. "Not that it was…_nice _you were drowning." He said with frown. "Because…that's _bad_." He finished. It was nice to know I wasn't the _only_ awkward one on board.

"So you're human then?" I asked mildly.

"That obvious, huh?"

"Naw. I figure jet lag is mostly a 'human' thing anyway. Nice to feel not so…out of place. I've been running into a lot of them lately." Too many, would have probably been a more accurate way of putting it. "Aliens." I added.

"Oh." He nodded in an understanding way. "Yeah, well. That _will_ happen. You know, when you travel with the Doctor."

Or with the Professor. Or Koschei. Or 'that guy you slept with that _wasn't_ your boyfriend'. Oh shut up.

"I'm getting that." I smiled. No need to let him know about the several voices in my head that were competing for space in the conversation.

"Good morning." Speak of the devil. The Professor marched in, acting as though nothing was different at all.

"Morning." Rory smiled. "You have trouble sleeping as well?"

"Some." The Professor said, he flashed a wicked grin at me as he reached over my shoulder to retrieve a mug. Somehow, he knew _exactly_ where they were. Of course he did. "But time lords don't _need_ much sleep."

"Yeah, I suppose that makes sense. Never seen the Doctor nap." Rory shrugged.

"Not enough food on your tray?" The Professor ignored Rory and raised his eyebrow at me questioningly.

"Plenty of food." I held up the croissant. "You just didn't bring me anything to _drink_."

"I didn't hear any complaints last night." That smug grin on his face suggested he wasn't talking about the food tray. I felt my ears start to burn with the heat of a thousand suns. Son of a bitch, I was going to have to _kill _him.

"Yeah, well." That was it. That was the best _scathing_ remark I could come up with. His eyes flicked to the mug that I had hidden myself behind.

"Are you drinking _water_ again?" He asked incredulously.

"_Yes_." I took another sip, just to prove I was _enjoying_ my water. "I was _thirsty_." I kind of needed Rory not to be there, trying his best to look disinterested in the conversation, but ultimately failing. Or maybe it was better that he _was_ there. Snide Professor, while annoying, I could _handle_. Uncertain, slightly seductive Professor? Not so much.

"I'll get you some tea." He muttered as he pulled the mug from my hands and dumped the contents in the sink.

"I don't _like_ tea." I thought about snatching it back from him, but I didn't really want Rory to witness my tussle for a piece of ceramic. Especially when I was pretty sure I'd _lose_ that particular fight.

"You don't know how to _make_ tea. There's a difference." He reminded me as he went about his work. I was betting there _wasn't_. In fact, I felt like he had tried this a few times before, convincing me that I would start to _like_ tea. Stubborn. That was a good word for him. Hard-headed _and_ stubborn. While the water was bubbling in some kind of super megatron instant boiler, he crossed the kitchen back to where I was standing. Seriously interrupting my personal bubble space. And it seemed like he was fully aware of it.

"You look _nice_ this morning." His eyes caught mine as he reached behind me to retrieve tea bags, or sugar, or something else he needed. I wasn't really paying attention because the blistering heat of _two_ thousand suns had now spread to my face, as well as my ears. Bastard.

Instead of standing there and letting his grinning eyes get to me further, I went to sit down near Rory, eating the rest of my croissant with what I could only describe as _spite_.

"I didn't use to like coffee." Rory said, keeping his tone tactfully cheery. "Kinda grew on me though. Studying, staying up late. You know." He shrugged, clearly having run out of steam on _that_ particular topic. I had to give him credit for _trying_ to ignore the awkwardness in the room. Particularly since the Professor just seemed to be _enjoying_ it.

"That's great." I muttered, my mouth half full of pastry.

"Here you are." The Professor said, setting the mug down in front of me. "Make sure she lets that sit for a bit." He told Rory, as though I were _incapable_ of following instructions. Of course, coming from him, I probably would have ignored them on principle alone.

"Yes sir." Rory made a joke of saluting, but the Professor had already forgotten him.

"I'm going to check with the Doctor. Sort out where we're headed." I did my best to seem disinterested. "Just _try_ the tea. It'll make you feel better." I looked up to glare at him, only to realize he _wasn't_ being condescending. He was trying to be _nice_. Somehow, that was a thousand times _worse_ than snide Professor. This confusing mix of both was _really_ going to screw me up.

"Thank you." I said, drawing the mug forward. When he seemed satisfied that I wasn't going to turn around and immediately dump it into the sink, he headed back out the door, presumably to hash it out with the Doctor.

"So…" Rory said, after a suitably awkward silence had dragged out in the kitchen. "You and the Professor-"

"No." I said flatly. Denial. Deny, deny, deny. "It's not what you're thinking." Except it totally was. "Don't ask. Don't even _think_ about asking." I warned him. Too bad it was probably _worse_ than what he was thinking.

"Alright." He said with a quick nod, drinking from his own mug. "Where are you from? I assume the states? I've only been to Utah."

"Yeah. Utah is nice." I said, not remembering _anything_ about Utah. "I'm from the east coast. Connecticut." Had I actually _been_ to Utah? I'd been to one of those semi arid states. At some point. Do I care?

"Oh. That's interesting." Rory was trying to be polite, or he just didn't know there _was_ nothing interesting about Connecticut. The silence stretched on longer this time.

"We're just friends." I blurted out. Stupid. _Stupid_. Why can't you just shut your mouth?

"Is this one of those, 'I don't want to talk about it, but I _do_ want to talk about it' things?" Rory asked with a nervous frown. "Because I'm _really_ terribly at picking up on those. Just ask Amy." He said miserably.

"I'm sorry." I felt my shoulders sag. Even if that _was_ the kind of hint I was dropping, I really didn't want to talk about it with _Rory_.

"I mean, I'd be happy to…er…talk about it. If you'd like." He was kind of wincing, as though he feared me saying yes.

"No, that's alright. I'm just a bit out of sorts." I shrugged.

"Oh thank god." He smiled, giving a sigh. "Sorry. Sounded too enthusiastic, didn't I."

"It's fine." I grinned, at least he was good for a laugh. An awkward one, but then, what _wasn't_ awkward for me nowadays.

"Good. Good. Your tea is probably ready." He nodded to the still steaming beverage in front of me. I raised my eyebrow at him skeptically. "The water cools…weird here. Sort of drops to the right temperature. And then…stays there." He shrugged.

"This whole _place_ is weird." I grumbled, taking a hesitant sip from the mug. It didn't burn me like a scalding pot of boiling water, so that was nice. It was still gross _anyway_. Alright, maybe not _gross_. Better than anything me or Lucas could make. And could I stop thinking about him for _one_ damn minute?

"Yeah, you get used to it." He started with a grin, but it kind of slid from his face. "Well. No. You _don't_. But, it bothers you less. Eventually. Sometimes." Rory's reassurances slowly crumbled until they were useless. I didn't have to think about it long, because I was pretty sure I could hear shouting from down the hall.

"What are they on about?" Rory asked, his eyes flicked to the open door. I was pretending to be happy to ignore it, but then I started to recognize the voices. They sounded like the Professor and the Doctor, doing a little more than just 'hashing out' travel plans.

"Probably me." I said miserably. Took another sip of the tea. Yeah. Still tea. "I guess I should go."

"Ah, don't worry about it. I'm sure the Doctor will let you off easy. He's not so bad. Once you get to know him. Most of the time." I gave Rory a believable smile. I'm sure he'd let me off easy. Slap on the wrists, stern talking to, eject me into the vacuum of space. You know, whatever came up. I dumped my tea in the sink and started to hurry as I realized the voices were getting louder, and _angrier_.

"Good luck!" Rory called after me.

"Yes, I _do_ expect you to tell me _exactly_ what's going on. Or I'm dropping you _both_ off with the shadow proclamation to sort it out!" The Doctor, sounding particularly peeved.

"She doesn't need a _prison_ you idiot! She needs a _hospital!" _Ah, there was my moon and stars. Being as charmingly convincing as ever. I was going to have to sign him up for one of those 'how not to be a total asshole' seminars. I'm sure it would do him _loads_ of good.

"Woah there." Jack was waiting near the end of the hall, blocking my way through. "Think I'd let them have it out for a bit."

"Yeah, but it's my fault. So I thought I'd just go nip it in the bud." I said, ready to push him out of the way.

"Well," Jack stepped out in front of me again, annoyingly swift. "You know. Old friends. Got a lot of history to get aggravated about. It's not _always_ about women." He said teasingly.

"And how do you know _that_?" The Doctor's voice interrupted us again. "More importantly, _why_ do you know that?" He was nothing, if not suspicious.

"I didn't_ cause_ the problem, if that's what you're asking." The Professor's tone was getting more of an edge to it.

"That's weird." I said, tilting my head up at Jack. "Because it certainly _sounds _like it's about me." I glared at him and pushed my way past, trying to ignore his grip on my arm.

"If you didn't _cause_ it, then why do you _care_?" The Doctor asked exasperated. "What are you trying so hard to _protect_?"

"Is it so _impossible_ to believe I want to _help_?" The Professor's voice was scathing now. "Isn't that what you and your little sanctimonious crew spend your days doing?" The Professor certainly didn't _sound_ like someone who was worried about other people. I was kind of wondering that myself. I know what he had told me, but what would he tell the Doctor? I wasn't really fighting against Jack's grip, mostly because I was eavesdropping, and this seemed to be the easiest place to do that. I knew I should feel guilty, but I had kind of burned through my daily quota on that already.

"That's _different_. I actually _care_ about the human race. I've been here for _years_ putting work into this planet. I seriously doubt you've had such a radical turn around on an entire species you've _loathed_ for centuries-" The Doctor stopped circling, I could see his face now, he was furious, but then something changed. "Unless…" He looked at the Professor, confusion written across his features. "Unless it's _not_ an entire species. Unless it's just _one_." He said thoughtfully.

"Don't be _stupid_." The Professor's voice was like venom, and hey, look, I was _drowning_ in it. Probably why people _don't_ advise eavesdropping. "She's just a _human_." The Doctor looked doubtful. _I_ didn't feel doubtful. I was feeling angry, betrayed, and _really_ wishing Jack would stop looking at me like that. I turned to go, I didn't _need_ to intervene. The Professor could handle his own mess all by _himself_.

"Fitz, he's just _saying_ that." Jack said in a low voice. It was great that he knew exactly why I looked so furious and crushed at the same time. Awesome, maybe _everyone_ can know about it, and then it'll be even _more_ awkward.

"It's fine." I said. I was saying that a _lot_ now. I hadn't really _believed_ the Professor anyway, had I? It wasn't like I had _feelings_ for him. The lecherous toad. No sir. That was exactly why my hands were clenched in tight punching fists at my side. Ready to tear a hole into something or _someone_.

"Fitz?" I felt my stomach drop to a new level when I heard the Doctor's voice over my shoulder. Couldn't just let me make a clean get away and pretend it never happened, could he? I was _really_ starting to dislike the _entirety_ of the time lord race. The handful that was left anyway. And surprisingly, the one in my head was at the _bottom_ of my list right now.

I briefly considered making a break for it. Running away, slamming the door to my room, or at least, shutting it quickly? I didn't know if they could slam. Maybe I'd just _make_ a slamming noise. But going to _hide_ somewhere, like a child. In fact. I was _still_ considering it.

But no. I wasn't going to let him get to me. Or at least, I wasn't going to _admit_ he had gotten to me. I was going to be a grownup. Well. I was going to _pretend_ anyway. Not in the casual, mature way. More likely, in the deliberately passive aggressive kind of way. So really, just a more socially acceptable way of acting out like a child. It was just slightly more disguised. I was going to make it work.

"Yep." I turned back around, ignoring the awkward look Jack was giving me. "That's me. The source of all the trouble in the world." I plastered a grin on my face. See? I could pretend not to care _too_. It didn't bother me in the slightest that the Professor looked surprised, and even a little unhappy, to see me.

"Sorry about that, _Professor_." I made _extra_ sure he understood why I was using _that_ name.

"Fitz," He said, swallowing, very much _aware_ of my dangerous mood, despite my manic smile. "I didn't mean-"

"It's _fine_." I should _really_ get that on a bumper sticker or something. I just smiled harder, I felt like my face was about to crack, but dammit, I was going to keep going. "Might as well tell him. I don't want you to keep getting lashes for a _human_." Yeah, he flinched visibly as I threw _that_ word at him. _Good_. It was nice to know I still had _some_ kind of an effect on him. Even if most of it was a lie.

"Tell me _what?_" The Doctor was watching us both carefully, but whatever was going on, he wasn't going to let that distract him from getting the answers he needed.

"Fitz…" The Professor's voice was warning now. Great, now we could _both_ be on the same pissed off page.

"I don't have hallucinations." I turned my attention fully to the Doctor now. "I have a time lord. In my _head_." Even the TARDIS seemed to quiet down after I dropped that little bomb. I could tell the Professor was pretty angry, but I refused to look at him. The Doctor still looked as though he were trying to comprehend it.

"A time lord?" He frowned.

"Yep. Consciousness. In my head." I pointed up in case he had forgotten what part of the general anatomy that usually was.

"Oi!" Donna came up from the stairs just then. "What's it all got quiet for? Sounded like you lot were ready to kill each other." She glared at the Doctor and the Professor but then lowered her hands from her hips. "What's wrong?"

"Fitz has got a _time lord_ in her head." The Doctor said in a calculated tone.

"Oh, is that all?" Donna didn't sound very impressed. "What's wrong with you? Trying to perpetuate the species as a parasite?" She seemed to be taking it rather well actually. I put her back on my _good_ list.

"And why _didn't_ you think I needed to know about this?" The Doctor's focus shifted back to the Professor. His anger growing again, his eyes darkening. "Do you know how _dangerous_ this is? For _us_? For _her_?"

Yes. He _did_. He had _told_ me. Crap. Now all those angry rageful feelings were being followed quickly by guilt. I guess I _hadn't_ used all that up. This is probably _not_ how I should have ousted my little secret.

"It's not his fault." I interrupted quickly before the Professor could start another shouting match. Besides, I was already getting a headache from the first round. "He was trying to protect me." I admitted, grudgingly.

"_Protect_ you?" The Doctor's eyes flicked to me again. "By keeping this a _secret_? This might come as a surprise to you all, but multiple consciousnesses in a body generally _doesn't_ end well. In fact, they usually, and when I say _usually_ I mean to say almost _always, _end in _death_." Well, color me surprised. It was nice to know the Professor hadn't lied about _that_. "_And_ that's not solely confined to the host. I might add." He shot us both a disgusted look. I was starting to see why the Professor didn't like this guy. "So then you've got your host." His attention was back on the Professor now. "You were on your way for another body. So what was the plan? Are you bringing someone back from Gallifrey? Or is this just another one of your feeble attempts to escape death?"

"I already _told_ you." The Professor was growling now. "I haven't had anything to do with it."

I leaned against the railing to support myself, god this headache was _obnoxious_. I wanted to tell the Doctor he was right, that I was pretty sure the Professor _hadn't_ done anything. It was related to the necklace somehow, and those Joulex had been chasing me before the Professor had time to do anything other than creep me out in a bookstore. And he had been just as surprised and horrified as I had been when it first emerged. But I just couldn't focus past the pounding in my head.

What I _could_ focus on, was my finger. Tapping out a rhythm on the metal pipe behind me. I gritted my teeth, trying to get it to stop. Almost. I could _almost_ control my finger. I could feel it wavering, fighting against my own willpower. But then it was slipping away, if I had caught it a second earlier I could have stopped it. But it was gone now. And just the drums were left behind.

_One, two, three, four._

_One, two, three, four._


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: Thanks you guys for your continuing support! It really does make me excited to know that people are enjoying the story! And look sawmaniac, another confrontation! Who would have thought? :D**

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><p>"<em>Can't explain, nor can I contain, control, you have on my soul."<em>

"Yes, well. There's telling me, and then there's _telling_ me." The Doctor was glaring now, his voice rising as his annoyance grew. What was he in such a _fuss_ about? A harmless secret? Okay, perhaps not _harmless, _but certainly not something that they couldn't have gone _without_ sharing. What had possessed Fitz to open her _bloody_ mouth about it?

Well, of course he knew _why_. He had pissed her off. That wasn't really a _surprise_. Served her right for lurking around corners, listening in on other people's conversations. He certainly wasn't going to divulge to the Doctor, of all people, just exactly what she _was_ to him.

"And I'm pretty sure that you've been doing the _latter_."

He opened his mouth to respond, what could he say really? Yes Doctor, I've been lying to you because I'm pretty sure when you discover the answer, we'll no longer be on the same side. He was saved the trouble by Fitz.

"I'm pretty sure that you've been doing the latter." Fitz mimed the Doctor in a strangely hollow voice. The Professor shot her a scowl, hadn't she already caused _enough_ trouble for the day? For a _lifetime_? At this point, she'd be doing them all a favor if she would just keep her mouth _shut_.

"Yes, _thank you,_ Fitz." The Doctor waved a hand in her direction, dismissing her. "But what I want right _now_, is for you to tell me the _truth, _Professor. _All _of it." By the time he was finished, he realized that he had an echo. Fitz was a little behind, but she was repeating what he had said, word for word.

The Doctor stared at her, confused, and for the moment, forgetting his anger with the Professor. He sighed, she was clearly _not_ going to just let go of what he had said.

"Look, Fitz. I know you're upset." He started, doing his best to sound apologetic. He wasn't _feeling_ particularly sorry at this point, after all, it _was_ her fault she had listened in on a rather overly fabricated discussion with the Doctor.

"Look, Fitz. I know you're upset." She wasn't even looking at him; her eyes were still fixed in the space where the Doctor had been standing a moment before. The Professor ground his teeth together.

"Yes, you're _very_ funny." He was having a hard time remembering to be _sorry_, to _act_ sorry. If she was going to be such a petulant _child_ perhaps this had all been a mistake after all. Perhaps he should have never gotten _involved_. Somewhere, that thought _upset_ him, but his annoyance pushed it back to the far reaches of his mind.

"Yes, you're very funny." She was repeating almost as soon as he had finished speaking. He couldn't quite explain the uncomfortable feeling that was settling in his gut, there was something _off_ in her voice. Something wrong with her eyes too. In fact, he felt certain that Fitz would have had some obnoxious smirk on her face during this exchange, knowing it would annoy him further. But instead, she was blank.

"Knock it off." He glowered, all of the anger he had been prepared to target at the Doctor was now being redirected. She was being an _idiot_, all they had had to do was wait until they reached the hospital. All she had to do was stay _quiet_ until then, and they could have been _safe_. But she had to let her emotions out of control, and now, on top of that, she was being…_strange_. Just to _spite_ him.

"Knock it off." She mimicked. All the rage in his eyes seemed to bounce off her as though there was no effect.

"Listen-" He started again but the Doctor cut them both off this time.

"Wait…just _wait_." He said softly, bringing his fingers up to his mouth to silence the Professor. They had no effect on Fitz, however.

"Wait…just wait."

"Fitz, sweetheart. Maybe you should come lie down for a bit." Even Donna sounded hesitant as she reached for her arm. She didn't seem to actively resist being led away, but she didn't budge either. In fact, she didn't _move_ at all, except for her lips, which repeated Donna's words.

"Stop. Everyone just _stop_." The Doctor stepped forward, pushing Donna back. She opened her mouth to protest, but when Fitz interrupted her in that same dead tone she had been using, she thought better of it. The Doctor's eyes focused intently on Fitz, searching her eyes with his own. He thought he saw some kind of recognition there, whatever it was, the Professor didn't _like_ it.

"I _know_ you, don't I?" He stooped down to meet her gaze, a thoughtful look on his face.

"I know you, don't I?"

"Yes," The Doctor nodded with a bitter smirk. "That was a neat trick on Midnight as well."

She didn't repeat that phrase. Instead, life flashed back into her features and a slow smile started to creep across her lips. She tilted her head to the side and regarded the Doctor.

"Midnight?" Donna looked worriedly from the Doctor to Fitz, taking a careful step back. "You mean that _thing_ is _here_? _In _Fitz?"

"Finally," She said, her voice no longer toneless, but not _Fitz's_ either. The Professor felt a chill go down his spine. "I thought I was going to have to parrot you idiots all day. It's nice to see you still recognize my work, _Doctor_." Her smile was cruel as she said his name.

"Yes. Sorry to keep you _waiting_. I'm sure that must have been tedious for you. I suppose back on the ship, that was you as well? Tearing off the cab, knocking on walls, easily done on Midnight. After that, I suspect throwing a Joulex across the room wasn't even much of a challenge…"

"Indeed," She smirked. "The galvanic radiation had such _interesting_ effects on me." She raised her eyebrows with a grin. The Professor held his position, whatever the Doctor thought, he didn't suspect the truth of it. If he tried to intervene now, he would only look guilty. He could see the necklace resting on her chest, glowing like it had caught the light. If he could just get _close_ enough to brush it away. Would that be enough?

"Well. I can't say that I understand how you're _here_." The Doctor tapped his chin thoughtfully as he stood back. "Last I recall, you were pulled out of that Crusader 50 tour bus. Onto the _surface_. The surface where no _living_ thing can exist."

"Yes. _Pity_ I couldn't get them to throw you out as well." Fitz pouted teasingly. "So close too. Do you remember how that felt? The powerlessness as they dragged your body away? As you were about to _die_? And at the hands of those _cowards_ who were so _easy_ to manipulate. They're your favorites aren't they? The _humans_? That _betrayal_, why, that must have been _something_. Almost as if you had been betrayed by your _own_ kind." Her voice was verging on dangerous now. The Professor couldn't pretend not to know what Rassilon was referring to, but the Doctor didn't seem thrown either.

"Yes, I'm sure you learned all sorts of _interesting_ things that day." The Doctor's voice was a warning. "But you're here. _Alive_. Well, as alive as any _parasite_ can be. What _are_ you?"

"What?" Fitz laughed shrilly. "You silly _fool _of a man!" She spat at the Doctor. "It's not a _what_ but a _who_." The Doctor frowned, not understanding. The Professor knew _exactly _what he was getting at, and he was going to put a stop to it. Not only that but it was _dangerous_ to leave Fitz like this, the Doctor had his little interview, but it was _done_ now.

"You stay _put_." The Doctor snapped his gaze toward the Professor as he stepped forward, a dangerous edge in his eyes. "I'm getting _answers_. One way or another." There he was, the oncoming storm. Unrelentingly pursuing the answers he needed. And _he _was supposed to be the ruthless one. He had to admit, he quailed under those eyes. Only because the Doctor was _so _certain that he was the guilty one, trying to trick them all. He didn't know that the Professor had lied to keep them safe. To keep Fitz _protected_. He wasn't sure if that would make a difference any more.

"It isn't _safe_." He insisted, stepping forward again. The Doctor walked in front of him, effectively blocking his path. He created an imposing wall, standing taller than the Professor himself. Even despite his _bow tie_.

"Don't _make_ me stop you." His voice was dangerously low. As if he _could_. The Professor had _lifetimes_ of experience being cold and merciless. He clenched his fist, prepared to fight him tooth and nail if need be.

"Hey!" Fitz's voice startled them both so suddenly they dropped their standoff and turned to look. "I'm winning!" She was scrunching her face in concentration, but it seemed like it _was_ Fitz. Somehow. Was that _possible_? "Who's afraid of the big bad w-" She doubled over, clutching her chest before her features smoothed and she stood once more. "Sorry." She apologized in that strange tone again. "Humans are _such_ annoying little _pests_."

"Ah, so not human yourself then?" The Doctor's malice toward the Professor was briefly forgotten as he returned his attention to Fitz.

"Oh? You haven't told him our little _secret_?" Fitz grinned at the Professor. "How _interesting_." The Doctor shot a glare over his shoulder, but refused to be derailed.

"He said you were a time lord. One of _us_. I don't know what he's promised you, but it's a _trick_. Whatever you were planning, I can _help_. I _want_ to help." The Doctor was so desperate to understand, to _fix_ things. The Professor swallowed, he was so far from the truth now, and yet so dangerously close.

"_Promised_ me?" Fitz scoffed at the Doctor. "What could he _possibly_ have to offer _me_?"

"You tell me…" The Doctor sounded doubtful now.

"I'll tell you what. I promised _him_ something. Would you like to know what that is?" She asked with a sly grin.

"Yes." The Doctor shot another look over his shoulder, accusingly. But it faded when he saw the Professor, his face was quite drawn. _He_ certainly remembered the promise that had been made, he remembered quite _well_.

"I _promised_ to _kill_ her." Fitz started to laugh, and her eyes fell on the Professor, relishing his fury that was barely under control. "And I promised she would _suffer_." She sounded vicious now, _angry_. "Would you like me to make _you_ a promise, _Doctor_?"

"If you _harm_ Fitz in _any_ way." The Doctor's back had stiffened. "I will find you a prison more _suitable_ than Midnight. I will find you a pit so black and so deep that you will _never_ escape it." The Professor shivered at his voice. He was quite serious too. Perhaps, for the first time, realizing that Fitz was the _victim_. And also, he _hoped_, that the Professor was _not_ the enemy. Bigger fish to fry, was the common phrase that came to mind. _Much_ bigger.

"You couldn't save Mrs. Silvestry." Fitz looked hateful now, bridled by the Doctor's threats. "Or yourself for that matter. You couldn't even save that _cow _who threw-"

"Don't you _dare_." The Doctor closed the distance between the two of them and glowered down at her. The Professor noted that the Doctor's hands were clenched at his sides, visibly shaking. Even Fitz, or Rassilon, could see how on the edge he was, she quailed under his gaze ever so slightly. "Don't you dare speak about her like _that_. Not to me. Not _ever_."

"Are all of you so _moody_?" She tried to smirk, acting unimpressed while staring into the abyss of the time lords fury. But the Professor could see very clearly, that was a lie.

"_What_ do you _want_?" The Doctor was very close now, possibly forgetting that it was Fitz standing in front of him, Fitz who they were trying to _protect_. The Professor moved forward again, careful to stay out of sight. He had a feeling things were quickly getting out of hand.

"What do I _want_?" Fitz's face split into a venomous grin. "Oh, _Doctor_. I want you _destroyed_. I want everything you have _ever_ loved, _burned _and _ruined_. I want to find each and every one of your _fool_ assistants and make you _watch_ while I carve them into bloody screaming _corpses_. I want to tear you down piece by piece so you can _pay_ for what you've done. And I want you to _know_ that I cannot be defeated. Not by _you_, not by the _Master_, and not by a _thousand_ Dalek's!" She was shouting as she spoke, her own rage something to rival the Doctor's. "I _created_ the time lords and I'll _not_ let you go unpunished for-" Her hateful sneer suddenly dropped from her face and she started to sag.

"It's okay!" Fitz's hands shot up to the sides of her head. It was a startling shock to see the change so quickly. "I think I've got it again." Her eyes were clenched shut but she forced them open, searching for _him_. "Koch-" She let out a low whimper and her fingers curled around her skull in pain. He was pushing past the Doctor, knowing immediately what she was asking for; the Doctor was too startled to stop him as he reached for the necklace, tearing it away from her skin. With a shudder she collapsed in his arms, her hands slipping down to help hold herself up. A sigh of relief escaped her lips as she opened her eyes again.

"Are you alright?" His voice was a hoarse whisper; he could feel that fear eating away in his gut. That fear of _losing_ her.

"Yeah," She made an effort to nod and was able to gather her legs under her. "Yeah I'm alright." She told him again. He still wasn't letting her go. She blinked a few times and then started to giggle in a disturbing way.

"What's so funny?" The Professor asked warily, reaching for the necklace again.

"It's just," She shook her head, trying to control her laughing. "I think he's been trying to make my brain. I dunno. Stronger. So it's…so it's easier for him to take over." She shrugged, gathering her wits. That made sense, Rassilon trying to change her physiology in an attempt to keep her alive as a host. He wasn't sure what kind of permanent damage that was likely to lead to. "But, I mean, it's making _me_ better at fighting him." She snorted again. "What an _idiot_, right?" She giggled again, but more out of hysteria than anything else. Perhaps she hadn't quite gathered _all_ of her wits back.

"Right." He said, relieved at least, to see that she _seemed_ to be alright, for now. He had no doubt Rassilon planned to make good on his threats. But he was still limited by Fitz's human form, or perhaps, even Fitz herself. That thought helped calm him somewhat.

"Thanks…" She swallowed, looking up into his eyes. "I mean, for helping."

"I promised I would." He said mildly, she sounded almost as if she _doubted_ he would have.

"I know, I guess I was just worried…" She looked away again. "Look, I'm sorry about…getting pissed off."

_That's_ what she was worried about? That he would refuse to help because she had lost her _temper_? He smirked, unable to completely hide his amusement.

"That's alright." He reassured her. "That's why I _like_ you." Her own lips started to curl into a hesitant smile. He remembered how her mouth had felt crushed against his own, with his eyes half lidded he leaned forward, thinking perhaps he could jog Fitz's memory, just to be sure.

"Rassilon." The Doctor's voice was grim, but also frightened. It served to remind the Professor _where, _exactly, he was. And _who _he was with. He released Fitz slowly, and with a swallow, stepped away from her. Now was _certainly_ not the time or place. He shot Fitz a wicked grin, letting her know that later it _would_ be. He noticed, slightly pleased, as her cheeks flushed a healthy pink, before he turned his attention back to the Doctor.

"Rassilon?" The Doctor shook his head. "Fallen back somehow? The time lock, how…I _imprisoned_ him. It's…it's _impossible_." His eyes searched the Professor's, refusing to believe what he was telling himself.

"Yes." The Professor answered, careful to keep himself between the Doctor and Fitz. There was no going back now, even if he _hadn't_ guessed what Rassilon had all but spelled out for him, he would have still needed to answer. It was too important now. _Fitz_ was too important. He needed the Doctor to know that they were _both_ on the same side, and he couldn't do that by keeping him in the dark any longer. The Doctor still looked lost, shaken. Donna, by contrast, was looking quite _smug_.

The Professor scowled in her direction, what could she _possibly_-. But then he knew, as her gaze flicked over to where Fitz was still standing. Of _course_ she would be the one to notice. Leave it to _her_ to be focused on the latest _gossip _instead of the matter at hand. _That_ was what being half-human cost her. The Doctor, as usual, was oblivious. She could have her sense of self satisfaction, he would deal with her later.

"Why didn't you _tell_ me?" The Doctor's voice was a deadly whisper and his eyes locked on the Professor. The accusation was evident on his face. He couldn't hurt Rassilon, not yet anyway, but it didn't look like he had the same reservations about the Professor.

"Why don't you _think_?" The Professor snapped back. It was just like the Doctor to only see the betrayal of the _lie_. Not the reasoning behind it. Rule number one, _apparently_, was only acceptable if it was the _Doctor_ who was doing the misleading.

"I know what _I_ think." His tone suggested it was nothing good. "I want to _know_ why you thought the most dangerous _bloody_ time lord in the universe should stay a _secret_. I want to know why you thought I _didn't_ need to know. I want to know why you let her march around _my_ bloody ship, when she could have _killed_ any one of us at any time. Do you _understand?_" He wasn't shouting, not even raising his voice. His tone was as level and lethal as it had ever been when he had seen him this angry. "Not just _us_, but everything, _everywhere_. This is _Rassilon_. He could unravel the _universe_, and I couldn't have stopped him, because I wouldn't have known until it was _too bloody late. _So I want to _know, _right _now._ What you were hoping to gain? What the _hell _were you _thinking_?"

"I'm not trying to _gain_ anything!" He spat back angrily.

"Then why didn't you _tell me_?" The Doctor was yelling now, convinced it was the Professor to blame.

"Because you bloody _killed_ the lot of them!" The Professor shouted over the Doctor. "Every last one!" His voice echoed in the TARDIS and silence fell around them. He remembered what he had felt when the Doctor had admitted that the time lords were dead. Burned from the sky, by his _own_ hand. For one striking moment, despite how buried he had been in his own wrath and suffering, he had been well and truly surprised. _Impressed_ even. Of course, that had been _before_.

He also remembered the last day on Gallifrey, staring up at the Doctor, life slowly fading from his weak body. He had seen how the Doctor had looked at Rassilon, the _hate_, the unrestrained _fury_. He had seen that again today, and _known_, with a clear certainty, that the Doctor was a _dangerous_ man. But he also had seen what it had cost him.

The Doctor didn't seem to understand the words he had said, but it wasn't what he expected, and so, for the moment, the rage that coursed through his veins receded. Replaced by a cautious uncertainty.

"Oh." Donna finally said in the growing silence. "Of course." Her eyes caught the Professor's, filled with sympathy. He didn't _want_ her compassion. She couldn't _truly_ understand. Mind of a time lord or not, she was _not_ one of them. "You destroyed them. And now, the most dangerous one of all… is in _her_." Her voice was soft, and somehow reached the Doctor. His uncertainty gave way to anguish. He could see the heavy burden that always weighed on the Doctor, the blood of so many innocents. Yes, he understood now.

"I-" He started to speak, perhaps to defend his actions. But of course, he couldn't. The Doctor had no empathy for himself, only loathing. "You know why I had to do it." His voice sounded like that of a broken man.

"Yes." The Professor _did_ know. Now better than ever. Rassilon had gone _mad_. He was determined to tear apart time and space to preserve the time lords. He knew _exactly_ why the Doctor had to do it. There _was_ no other choice. And yet, _he_ never could have.

He didn't know if it was because he wasn't _capable_ of that, or, if he could have never justified it to himself. Not until it was far too late.

"I understand." He admitted to the Doctor. "And I _don't_ blame you." The Doctor's jaw flexed, surprised to hear those words from the Professor. To hear the words he had needed to hear _so_ badly from people who were no longer there to say them.

"But _knowing_ what I did. I couldn't risk _telling_ you, I didn't know if she'd be-" He shook his head, there it was, that cold sinking feeling of despair when he thought of the Doctor taking her away. When had this become so _personal_ for him? Had he even had a _choice_? Of course not. He had been lost the instant she had marched back down that alley like a _moron_ and taken on the Joulex, armed with nothing more than a book bag.

"So…" The Doctor said slowly. "The Professor's _diabolical_ plan was to protect the innocent from the Doctor." A bitter smile was tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Yes, the irony is not lost on me." The Professor smirked back. For now, at least, they had their delicate alliance.

"I can't promise anything, if it comes down to that." The Doctor said miserably.

"I know." The Professor acknowledged.

"Alright."

"So, we're done with the shouting bit, then?" Donna asked, her eyebrows raised.

"Yes, Donna." The Doctor sighed and gave her a tight smile. "I think we're done with the shouting."

"Awesome, cause I have a killer headache." Fitz complained, rubbing her temples. The Professor glanced back, a little uncomfortably. All too aware of how she could fall again.

"She's going to need rest." The Professor explained. "It's easier to control if she's had more sleep."

"Alright. We'll need to fuel up anyway. Keep an eye on her." He warned the Professor, though he didn't really need to say it. "I mean it, I don't her wandering alone on this ship."

"Got it." He nodded.

"Is, this…uh. A good time to get a ride back?" Jack suddenly popped out of wherever he had been lurking in the hallway. "Everyone's probably still a little worked up at the Institute, best if I check in." He shrugged. Of course, where would the _ghost-busters_ be without their fearless _freak_ leader.

"Yes, that's fine." The Doctor agreed. They'd need to stop in Cardiff to recharge the TARDIS anyway, but the Professor would have been more than happy to go out of his way to get rid of Jack.

"Come on." The Professor started to lead Fitz away. Jack and Donna both shot worried looks in her direction, but neither made any effort to stop her. He brought her back to her room, and while he remembered quite vividly what had happened the last time they had come here, he resolved that, _this_ time, he would _just_ be here to keep her safe. He kicked off his boots and sat down at the top of the bed, gesturing for her to join him. She gave him a skeptical look. Of _course_ she would. He rolled his eyes.

"You _need_ some rest. Some _real _rest. _I_ should have known better…" He allowed himself to smirk. "I promise to _behave_ myself this time." Fitz snorted disbelievingly, but she settled herself down on the bed anyway, resting her head against his lap.

"Coming from you, that means…almost nothing." She muttered. He chuckled as he brushed the hair back from her neck but he felt her twitch under his touch.

"What is it?" He asked, would it be too much to ask that she stay safe for just _one_ moment?

"Listen," She said, staring into the wall instead of looking at him. "If this is just…you know. For fun. Or, _whatever_. That's fine. I totally get it. You don't have to make excuses, or anything."

"For fun?" He asked mildly. She squirmed under his gaze and he saw her ears starting to grow pink. He did rather _enjoy _the effect he could have on her.

"Yeah, you know." She sighed irritably, not happy with having to explain further. "For _fun. _Whatever _this_ is." She made an effort to shrug. "I mean, don't feel like you _owe_ me anything. I know you're…well. You're an _alien_. So. This was bound to end weird _anyway_. Better if we're just, I don't know. Having a good time. It's not like it's _serious_ or anything."

He stiffened. He hadn't really considered the possibility that _she_ wasn't interested. That had certainly never been an issue when he had been the _Master_. Or it was never an _option_ to be an issue.

"Is that what you think this is?" He asked her in a careful voice. She flicked her gaze up toward him, but then lowered it again, nervously.

"Maybe?" Her voice came out like a squeak. He watched as the flush from her ears spread down to her cheeks as well. _No_. She _didn't_ think that. She thought that was what _he _wanted to hear. Her thoughts still lingered on what he had said to the Doctor. He sighed and grabbed her chin, gently forcing her to face him.

"Then _you,_ are an _idiot_." He said without malice. Her gaze sharpened but he interrupted whatever unpleasant remark she was about to make by kissing her softly. _That_ seemed to clarify things for her and she responded in kind, her hands tangled in his short hair, pulling him closer against her. A low groan rumbled deep in his chest before he realized he needed to _stop_ before they got too carried away, _again_. He pulled away from her, her lips slightly parted in surprise. "Now." He said, taking a deep calming breath as he leaned back against the wall. "Go to _sleep_ before I think of something _fun_ for you to do with your time instead."

"You don't scare me." She said with a smirk as she rolled back on her side and folded her glasses neatly above her head. He snorted. Never had a problem with _that _either when he had been the Master. He didn't mind so much. He didn't respond though, instead, he closed his eyes and focused on pressing his mind toward hers. He didn't need to think of Gallifrey this time, instead he just focused on the warmth of her next to him, her steady breathing, and his hand gently running through her hair.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: Sorry! Sorry! Delays! I know. I'm a monster! I apologize profusely. I will get that back up to at least once a week. In the meantime. Thank you to all the reviewers who have no link to their profile so I can't write them properly and thank them.**

**And also thank you to all my regular readers and reviewers! You're rock stars! Especially when I'm a piece of crap and don't update. :D  
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><p>"<em>You and me, we're in this together now. None of them can stop us now, we will make it through somehow."<em>

"You're still here." I mumbled as I rolled over into a very solid leg. Right, because Koschei was still sitting right where I had left him. It had only surprised me because the last time I remembered falling asleep with him in the bed, well, he had been noticeably _absent_ when I woke up. I couldn't tell if I was more surprised, or happy.

Mostly because what I was really feeling just then, was like crap. With a capital C. I felt somewhat better rested, that was _something_, I guess. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to be combating the distinctly unpleasant way I was feeling.

Maybe I was secretly some kind of wild alcoholic who went on a bender last night and I had just blacked out and forgotten? Actually, that would explain a _lot_. Maybe? Probably not though, since I seemed to remember most everything, in detail.

"Try not to sound so disappointed." Koschei was rolling his eyes at me. Why was he responding? Had I said that out loud? Oops. Probably not what I had intended to do. Would rather he _not_ know how surprised I was to find him still here. I'm struggling with this alert thing. Not a morning person. Well, if it _was_ morning. Not a _waking_ _up_ person, anyway.

He was, of course, looking completely unruffled. He probably hadn't slept. Easier for him, with his whole, 'alien life form' thing. I was _feeling_ like a train wreck, and it wasn't hard to imagine that I probably looked it too. I pushed my snarled hair away from my face to try and at least appear like I was…oh, who was I kidding. It was already too late.

"Sorry." I just expected you to leave like last time, you know, when we hooked up and I woke up alone? No, I didn't need to say that, even if I was struggling to get up to speed, I wasn't going to screw myself over _that_ bad. "Just figured you'd be…working with the Doctor." Yeah, that sounded legitimate. I gave myself a pat on the back for a lie well constructed. You really had to reward yourself for the little things.

Especially when you were a ticking time bomb in a complicated alien human relationship triangle.

Just me? Alright then.

"Probably best to give him some space." He said mildly. "I imagine he's still not particularly pleased with me." His eyes flicked over me, accusingly. Sure, blame the human. It wasn't like you guys didn't already have some serious baggage between the two of you. "And, if you remember. You're to be escorted at all times."

"Right." Forgot he was technically my _babysitter_. Just one more thing to feel awkward about. Sitting up, I stretched out my limbs. Why did I feel like my nap hadn't been refreshing at _all_?

Seriously. Sack of bricks, blunt force trauma. That was where I was at right now. Had I gotten the flu somewhere along the way? Was it _possible_ for me to have caught the flu?

Ugh. Washing my face. That would help. Maybe it might make me look a little less like I had just been scraped off a sidewalk. How did all those women in the movies look so effortlessly beautiful and radiant in the mornings all the time? Probably, they were _morning_ people. Well, and, mostly imaginary.

Still. Morning people were decidedly on my _list_. And not the good one.

"Guess I forgot." I muttered as I dunked my face into the sink. The cold water felt like a vicious slap, but it felt good too. I was just convincing myself that I was going to feel better when the floor dropped out from under me. "Whoa…" I said, keeping a firm grip on the counter. Actually, I was rather pleased to find that I hadn't fallen. Point goes to the human. Nice try _ship_.

And then it shook and dropped again, and then one more time, for good measure.

Yeah. That was my ass I landed painfully on.

"What the f-" I was spitting as I pushed myself up.

"Fitz?" Came the alarmed voice from the bedroom. "You alright?"

"Yeah. I'm just in here break dancing." I glared at him as he poked his head through the door. He looked like that might be an amusing idea. What did he know? I could have been the break dancing champion of the _world_. I could _certainly _break dance better than _him_. Probably. Maybe?

"What the hell was that?" I channeled my annoyance at the ship in general. I had to assume it had heard me inwardly gloating about my ability to stand, and it had decided to ruin that for me.

"Felt like a rather shitty landing." He said mildly, helping me stand back up.

"Landing? Are we at the hospital?" I don't know quite why my voice rose at the end, like I was _nervous_ about getting there. Probably because the last time I had been to a hospital was…oh, right. _Never_. So nervous was probably accurate. Maybe even an understatement.

"I don't know. Guess we better go find out." He offered his hand again and led me out of the room. I followed him, I was excited as he held my hand in his own. Stupidly so. _Why_ was I so excited? I was still trying to convince myself this wasn't a serious thing, even though he had effectively ruined _that_ illusion. Of course, I'm sure he said a lot of things to get into people's pants. But still. I had been convinced when he had called me an idiot. After all, that seemed like something _I_ would say. And he appeared sincere.

But even if he _was_ serious, that didn't mean he couldn't change his mind. He _was_ an alien. One who traveled all over the _universe_. What was I? Just a plain old human, one who traveled _four_ _blocks_ to work every day. Hell, I didn't _have _a job any more. The only thing that made me even remotely unique was this consciousness in my head, and we were trying to get that _out_.

Don't get me wrong, I _wanted_ it out. But maybe that was all it was that made him think I was special. Maybe he had some kind of _thing_ for helping freaks of nature. Would he still care after I was so blandly normal again?

It's great that I was so focused on relationship issues, instead of my possible death at the hands of an alien ghost. Maybe my priorities were a little backwards.

He caught me staring at him and flashed his wicked grin. Promising _something,_ later. I flushed.

This was a _terrible_ idea. This 'relationship' or whatever I wanted to call it was a terrible idea. I don't _know_ him. And also, he's a _bad_ guy. The Doctor said so, Donna said so, Jesus, _he_ had even told me as much. It would be _great_ if he left me alone after this whole business was over with. That _should_ be what I wanted.

But then, why was my heart racing like this? Over such a stupid thing as him smiling at me? Remember, he was _dangerous_.

Every excuse in the world didn't seem to help. So then why was I still trying to come up with them? Why was I still trying to pretend like I was on the fence? I either wanted this, or I didn't. It _wasn't_ that complicated. Really though, I knew which way I was leaning. I just didn't _want_ to be leaning that way. Maybe I was afraid of _how_ excited I was about this. Maybe I wanted it so badly, that I _hoped_ something would get in the way. Because then it wouldn't hurt so much when I realized it was just _me_ that was the problem. The _human_.

Thanks for the introspective, Dr. Phil. _Jesus_.

I was saved the trouble of shouting down at myself in my head, which I was totally preparing to do, by our arrival in the control room. It wasn't especially encouraging to see both the Doctor and Donna fiddling with all the dials and looking pretty perplexed themselves.

"Did you forget how to fly this thing?" Koschei asked with a sneer, the Doctor shot him an irritated look. So they weren't over the whole 'lying about a time lord consciousness' issue. Noted.

"We weren't _actually_ flying. We were sitting _parked_ if you must know." Donna had paused in her assistance to defend the Doctor, and put her hands on her hips accusingly.

"Parked?" Koschei frowned and actually sounded slightly less than obnoxious. "How do you bounce like that when you're _parked_?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out, dumbo." Donna rolled her eyes. For just one second, I was convinced that Koschei was going to kill her, or at least, he had _thought_ about killing her. I squeezed his hand reassuringly. No, killing was _bad_.

It wasn't a good thought that I had to _remind_ him of that.

Either it worked, or he had enough sense that he wasn't going to throttle Donna for calling him a dumbo. "Well, you obviously _weren't_ parked. Because that's _impossible_." He scowled. I could feel my headache rolling in, just in time to listen in on their shouting match. _Goodie_. Did they have Robitussin in Cardiff? Or space? Or possibly just in the Doctor's medicine cabinet? Because I could really use some Tussin right now. Like, two bottles worth. That helped with the flu, right? Maybe not. But if I drank enough of it, I'd probably pass out. Which I was totally up for.

"We're _still_ parked." The Doctor finally responded, he was splitting his attention between Koschei and the scanner screen, which was apparently malfunctioning. Or, at least, he was hitting it a lot. Which in my world, meant it wasn't working. "We've moved, but we're still parked. If you have any explanation for that, I'd _love_ to hear it."

"You can't-"

"So! Do! Ro! Sho!" The scanner screen flickered to life and the Doctor jerked back. What the hell kind of nonsense was that? Did people drunk dial time lords regularly? Because that's what it sounded like. Not a very good joke either. Not that I would ever do anything so childish. Nor would I ever use anything less classy than a knock knock joke.

Okay, I was a seriously problematic drunk dialer. People took away my phone before they took away my keys. Crappy friends. I've got em.

But from the look on everyone's face, it wasn't a harmless prank. In fact, they were all looking pretty alarmed.

"I guess that answers _that_." The Doctor said with a frown.

"The Judoon? What are they on about?" Donna sounded more annoyed than worried.

"They seem to think we're harboring a war criminal." The Doctor's eyes slid over to Koschei. Honestly? Could everything go right for just _one_ damn minute? Or is that just _too _crazy of a suggestion? "So they've brought us to their jurisdiction to collect him. On the moon."

"The bloody _moon_?" Donna exclaimed. "They can't just up and send us to the moon!" She was insisting as though it would make what actually happened less true. I couldn't really blame her, denial was pretty much my life philosophy after meeting these people. Of course, it wasn't going to _work_. But I didn't bother telling her that, she knew just as well as I did.

"Well, they _didn't_. Not exactly anyway." The Doctor shrugged. "I imagine what they did, was took a rather substantial piece of the earth up to the moon. Which is, totally within their rights. Granted, we happened to be _parked_ on the ground they took, but there's nothing specific in the Galactic Charter that says they can't do _that_."

"Just like the bloody hospital." Donna said, looking annoyed.

"Yes, precisely." The Doctor frowned at the screen again.

"So we run." Donna suggested. "Forget them and their charter. The last time they were right prats about the whole thing. I remember that, trying to get you to start a bloody _war_. _Forget_ them." Donna snorted. "I say we run for it."

"I like that idea." Koschei smirked.

"Yes. Splendid. An _excellent_ suggestion. Just a bit of a damper is all, they've got a bio-data lock on you. So, if anyone can remind me, how do we run from a biologically secured lock on our coordinates?" The Doctor asked them both with his eyebrow raised. Donna's face fell. That was an ominous sign. Was I sweating? Why was it so freaking hot in here? I felt my grip tightening on Koschei's hand, both from the gloom and doom the Doctor was spreading, and the headache that was really starting to throb.

"We don't." Koschei admitted, his voice gruff.

Well, god dammit. This wasn't sounding good at _all_. And now my _chest_ was burning-

Oh, wait. I _knew_ what that was. Alarm bells were firing off in my skull, which wasn't really helping the headache. But it did alert me to the necklace. That's what was heating up. Well, my whole body was heating up, but I could feel the little pebble of fire on my chest, waking up. If I probed my aching brain a little, I thought I could sense _him_, lurking just beneath the surface, ready to spring to action. I moved my other hand as covertly as I could, pulling the stone from my skin. Ah, that was some relief, and I felt his push ebb down a little further. But, the headache wasn't gone, and neither was the fever, flu…disease of some sort that made me feel like walking death. I should copy write that. Maybe.

So I might not have _stopped_ him. But I at least slowed him down, if I could just focus, I could maintain control. Right now, getting the whole 'arrested by Judoon thing' fixed was probably more important than my hangover symptoms. So I'd just worry about _that_, and tell Koschei about my impending doom in a little while. Because whatever the Judoon were, I assumed they were _bad_. Which, I was learning, was a pretty safe assumption to make in this company. It was weird how I was getting used to that. Weird, and kind of alarmingly cool.

"We can still try." Koschei finally said with a sigh, releasing my hand. It took a lot of effort to let him go, and even more to keep myself under control. It occurred to me that I had been _using_ him to help me, I'm not really sure _how_. Some kind of weird psychic energy maybe? Who knows, maybe it had only been moral support, but it didn't matter now, because he had let go.

Crap. Oh well, couldn't exactly explain why I wanted to hold hands without either traumatizingly embarrassing myself, or admitting to the whole 'time lord trying to get loose' business. They were both bad options, so instead, I gripped the railing behind me.

"What about Jack?" Koschei's eyes suddenly flicked up to the Doctor, looking hopeful. It was the first time I had heard him refer to Captain Harkness as 'Jack', I'm sure if he had been around to hear, he would have gone all warm and fuzzy inside. But the Doctor just shook his head.

"He's back at the institute. I sent them out for chips. I imagine they'll be a _bit_ surprised to find us missing. Well, no, actually, Amy will be _angry_…" The Doctor frowned. "Bit of a temper on that one." He tapped his chin thoughtfully as he fiddled with the scanner screen some more.

"Yes, because your _pets _are what I'm concerned about right now." Koschei said irritably as he went back to twisting more dials that I had no hope of understanding what their purpose was. I mean, there was a typewriter for Christ's sake. What the hell is that doing on a _spaceship_? Thinking about it made my head throb worse, so I let out a slow breath and closed my eyes.

"Are you alright?" It took me a moment to realize that the Doctor had been speaking to _me_.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Well, that's what I _tried_ to say. It sort of sounded like 'Ymfin'. What can I say, he surprised me, and I thought the quicker I answered, the more convincing I would be. Apparently, that was _wrong_. Koschei's eyes shot up as the Doctor crossed the room, he didn't look angry though, just worried. That was good, I was going to puke if someone else got angry with me. To be fair, I might be throwing up here shortly anyway, but that wasn't really the point. The Doctor pressed his hand against my forehead and I couldn't quite stop the sigh that escaped my lips. His skin was cool, so blissfully, wonderfully _cool_.

But then I realized that he probably wasn't _that_ cool, I was just freakishly hot. Somewhere in my head, that concerned me, but for now, I was focused on the relief on my forehead.

"You're burning up." His voice was grim as he took away his hand.

"No." I shook my head, the motion made my vision swim a little. "It's okay."

"What?" Koschei was leaving the controls, marching over to me. "What's wrong?"

"It's no big deal…" Why were they making me talk so much? My tongue felt all achy and miserable. Didn't they know that? Well, no, they _didn't_. Because I wasn't telling them. "It's just…it's- My body is being forced to accept the consciousness before I'm physiologically able. It's going to raise my internal temperature, like an infection. Naturally, because it's over extending my cellular respiration by about a thousand." Whoa. That was a mouthful of gibberish. The Doctor took a step back and his eyebrows shot up nearly over the top of his head.

"But-" Koschei's eyes were on my necklace, he reached forward but I waved him off.

"No. It's…I think he just sort of slipped in there." I mean, they weren't _my_ words, but they _had_ been my voice. "I'm still okay right now. I think…I think he thought it would be funny to tell you. Since he can't fight me off yet." Yeah, I was pretty sure I could hear the echo of his laughter somewhere in my head. Jackass. How I wanted to go back to that innocent time when I had been blissfully unaware of the psycho in my head. Those were the good ole days. Back when there was just a blond creeper in my bookstore, and life had been totally normal.

Okay, it had also been dreadfully _boring_. So it wasn't exactly Disneyland. I had practically been _begging_ for something crazy to happen. I guess I had just hoped that it _wouldn't_ involve my possible imminent death. You know, if I were being choosy.

"We need to get her out of here _now_." Koschei was almost growling at the Doctor.

"You're right." The Doctor's eyes were still fixed on me, calculating. "I just don't know how we're going to manage it."

"I do." Something in Koschei's voice caught both my and the Doctor's attention. He peered at him curiously, and something in Koschei's gaze caused him to blink. And then they had some kind of secret eyeball handshake which I couldn't understand.

"I can't guarantee that I'll be able to get you out. They're generally known for their swift and unfavorable decisions." The Doctor said. Out of where? Who's decisions? Why did I get the feeling that something _else _bad was about to happen?

"Yes, well. We've run out of options. Haven't we?" Koschei's eyes glanced at me once and then returned to the Doctor. "She's running out of time."

"If you're _sure_." The Doctor looked more grim than I had seen him in a while.

"Of course I'm sure." Koschei snapped at the Doctor and then turned to me. "I'll see you around." He said, squeezing my shoulder. What a romantic. And then he turned and started for the door.

"Wait. What?" I looked at the Doctor and Koschei's retreating form. "Sure about _what_?" But no one answered me. He opened the TARDIS doors and walked out. "Sure about what?" I practically shouted at the Doctor.

"Fitz…we need to get you to the hospital-"

"No!" I shoved past him, feeling surprisingly strong for being such a weak sickly sack of crap. I wasn't going to get any useful answers out of the Doctor, but I was sure as _shit_ going to get them from Koschei.

"Fitz!" The Doctor called after me, but I managed to outmaneuver him and Donna both, who looked surprised that my molten lead legs were carrying me so well. Or maybe neither of them were trying very hard, it was sort of difficult to tell.

With a final heave of my strength, I opened the TARDIS doors again and stepped out, ready to grab Koschei by the throat and throttle him if I needed to. Maybe even if I _didn't_ need to, I was kind of in the throttling mood.

But then I stopped very suddenly. Because I was on the _moon_. I know I had heard them, but hearing it, and then immediately dismissing it as unimportant, was _very_ different from seeing it. Because it was _the_ moon. I stared at my feet dumbly, they had sunk an inch into the gray powdery surface. Neil Armstrong, eat your heart out.

I immediately stopped breathing. Part of it was because I couldn't. Part of it was, _I couldn't_. There was no air here. This was the god damn moon! It had taken humans eleventy billion years to get here! That might be an overestimate. Still! A long damn time! Because it was full of space! And death! And much more importantly. _No air_.

"They took the atmosphere as well. You can…still breathe." Koschei was watching me hold my breath like a moron. I let my puffy cheeks collapse. That's cool. If I were feeling healthy enough to be embarrassed, I probably would have flooded beet red. But, as it were, I felt like shit.

And I was on the _moon_.

No time for embarrassment.

"Good to know." I muttered, taking another hesitant step forward. Would I fly away? Would I _bounce_ away? Sure, I was dying. But, dying on the moon? That was more cool points than I had earned in my _lifetime_. I was having a hard time wrapping my head around it.

"You should be inside." He said firmly. I was finally able to look up. Whoa. Earth in the sky. Earth moon. No, wait, that wasn't right. _This_ was the moon. Holy Jesus woman, _focus_. In the distance, there was another ship. Loads more impressive looking than the blue box I had just emerged from. It was large and black, and it had 'trouble' written all over it. Out of the dark ominous ship, figures had appeared, maybe a dozen of them, they were just as spookily clad as the vessel they came from.

"So should you." I said, _maybe_ a little childishly.

"Fitz." He said with an exasperated sigh. "He's _killing_ you. Right now. Not in ten minutes. Not tomorrow. _Now_." Thanks for the vote of confidence, _pal_. Did it matter that he was telling the truth? No. Well, _yes_. But to my inner petulant child? No. "You don't have time for this. So I'm taking care of it. The Doctor will take you to the hospital. You need to get back on the TARDIS."

"Yeah. Sure. That's fine. You can just 'take care' of these guys on your own. It _sounds_ like they're really nice. The fact that the Doctor looks like he just kicked a puppy was really god damn reassuring too." They were getting closer as I argued, I hadn't realized quite how _large_ they were. Or that they seemed to be entirely clad in _leather_. Someone had daddy issues.

"It doesn't matter." Koschei scowled at me. "I deserve this, I have it coming. You _don't_."

"That's it? You're the bigger jerk, so I'm more important?" I glared at him, at least it was nice and cold out here. I finally felt like I could get a full breath. I was only using it to yell, but, ah well. We all make choices. Mine just tend to be more shout-y.

"Yes." His eyes were that fiery inferno again. "And unless you want me to _prove_ it. You better get back on that ship." He strode forward and gave me a halfhearted push in the direction of the TARDIS. Which, in relation to my relatively weak body, just about knocked me over completely. He saw this and caught me before I had the chance to fall. _Sucker_. He wasn't very good at being a jerk when it _counted_.

"Guess what? Joke's on you. I'm _also_ an asshole. So even if you let the space police cart you off, I'm going to sit out here until I boil to death. How do you like _them_ apples?" I glared up at him so he knew I meant business. Of course, I was unwilling to acknowledge that his holding me was making me feel remarkable better again. This was not the time or place to admit I _needed_ him. Or, maybe it was. Shut up.

Whatever. I did my best to look intimidating. Which was probably made more difficult by me being a sickly pale color, and looking as slimy as a jellyfish, but that wasn't something I could help just then.

"You're so _bloody_ stubborn." He said with an edge to his voice. He stepped back but didn't quite let me go. "It doesn't matter. The Doctor will come _get_ you. Whatever you're trying to accomplish, it won't _work_."

"I'm _trying_ to save you, idiot!" Yeah, I could play the name calling game too. And I was _real_ good at it.

"Well I'm not worth saving!" He shouted back. Suddenly, I saw that he really meant it. Which was _weird_. Even if _I_ had been a real piece of crap, I knew that my inner survivor would always fight back. Always spend the last inevitable moments of my death kicking and screaming and refusing to let go. Maybe if I knew all the terrible things he had done, I could agree with him. But I _didn't_ know those things. I knew him _now,_ and I very _much _considered him worth it. But he seemed too determined on getting himself arrested, and subsequently, executed, to realize that.

"You are to _me_." I said in a tone I almost didn't recognize as my own. It was honest, _brutally_ so. That part where I was afraid of opening up my heart because he might stomp it into the ground? Yeah, I guess I didn't _care_. I was too worried about losing him to think about that. I gulped. Well, I _had_ been too worried. Part of me was starting to regret it. The anger melted out of his face, leaving behind only a startled surprise.

"Fitz." He said my name softly, was it a rebuke? I tried to prepare myself. How do you prepare yourself for wanting to melt into a puddle and die because you just totally put yourself out on a limb? Yeah, send me the memo when you figure it out, because I hadn't.

"I wish it could be different." He smiled and I was sucked into those gold colored eyes of his. It sounded like he was shooting me down, but the way he was looking at me? It really didn't _feel_ like a denial. "Maybe if I had just told the Doctor." He shook his head, angry with himself, it looked like. "This is the only way. This is what will keep you _safe_. That's what I _want_."

"But that's not-" Fair. Fair is what I was _going_ to say. Except he had covered my mouth with his own and stolen the word and the breath right out of me. His warm lips were hungry against my own and all the heat from my body seemed suddenly less like a fever and more like an inferno that had _nothing_ to do with being sick. I forgot I was on the moon, with a fully conscious voice in my head. I forgot that I was _dying_. Because it was all _vastly_ less important than what was going on right _now_. So unimportant, that I failed to realize when we had been surrounded by the soldiers until they tapped on my shoulder.

"Fro! Lo! Klo!" They barked as I tried to regain some of my dignity. They were _much_ larger in person, and they were wearing strange helmets that made them kind of look like giant leather bullets. Weird. And _so_ unfashionable. But who was I to judge?

"Goodbye." Koschei looked at me one last time before dropping his arms from around me. He turned toward the pack of soldiers while I was still trying to rebound from losing my grip on him. They pulled out a gun, which, comically, looked similar to a price-checking gun in a store. It spread a red beam across Koschei when they pointed it at him, just like the Joulex. What, red was the go to color for identification for _every _race in the universe? Sheep.

Koschei looked more than a little surprised when the gun went BLAT! in the creatures hand.

"Sco! No!" Well, I was pretty sure I didn't need a translation for _that_ one. Then they turned to me. Scanner gun at the ready.

"Er…" I said, because I was just _full_ of brilliant ideas. BING! Said the gun in a cheery voice. _That_ can't be good. From the look of fury and surprise on Koschei's face, I was guessing I was _right_.

"Sco! Mo! Flo! Tro!" They said as they grabbed my arms, twisting them behind my back. No, definitely _not_ good. Koschei surged forward, but was flattened by one of the soldiers.

"No! It's me! You want _me_!" He was shouting as one of them pinned him to the ground with his foot, he was turning red in the face as he struggled to toss the monster off him. Someone slipped a large necklace over my head, black and glowing.

"Gro! Slo! Wo!" They all shouted, slamming their fists over their chest and I could hear the necklace whirring into action.

"Look at that, I win." I said smirking. Even though I was feeling decidedly _un_ smirky. I wasn't feeling very victorious either, but it was important to stay positive. I had _saved_ him, right? I was already going to die, that much was pretty evident at this point. But seeing Koschei's face made me regret my comments. He looked miserable, and defeated, like I had just punched him square in the gut.

Hadn't I said I was planning to do that anyway?

"You _can't_!" He shouted, one last time, finally wrestling the foot from his chest. But then he vanished. Or, I vanished. Because we weren't on the moon any more. We were inside. I was feeling as crushingly alone as I ever had. Worse yet, I felt that fragile grip I had on myself slowly slipping away. Somewhere, I could hear that fucking time lord laughing at me. _Ass_.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: Look at me! Being a good updater! It's because you guys are so awesome! And Rachel. Totally weird. I completely approve. Weirdness is two thumbs up in my eyes. :D Two thumbs and a cheesy 11 grin to boot.**

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><p>"<em>I've got a tortured mind, and my blade is sharp. A bad combination in the dark."<em>

She was _gone_. His fists bunched in the moon dust, crushing the delicate particles in his hands. The Judoon hadn't taken _him_. Why? The urge to track down every one of their kind and rip their heads off was a powerful one. One he wasn't sure he was going to try to suppress. He punched the ground and was rewarded with a cloud of the stuff flying up into his face. Shaking his head, he looked up and saw the ship. _The ship!_ He hauled himself to his feet, perhaps it wasn't too late to reach their bloody prison transport.

"_Bugger!_" He shouted at no one particular as he watched it fade from view just like Fitz and the Judoon had done. They were gone, off to whatever _blasted_ planet they came from. It didn't matter where though, because they'd give Fitz a trial before they even arrived.

A trial for _what_ he had no idea. She was _human_, and young too. The event of her crimes superseding his own was so unlikely the odds were…well they were _astronomical_. Impossible even. There had been a mistake, that's all there was to it. A mistake. Except it was one that was likely to cost Fitz her _life_. That wasn't going to happen, he promised himself. He spun around in place, storming back into the TARDIS, thrusting the doors open with a bang.

The Doctor looked a bit startled to see him, and his 'enthusiasm'.

"What-"

"Why did you let her _leave_?" He hissed as he closed the gap between the two of them, needing to hold his hands very still at his sides or he was certain he was going to strangle the old man. The Doctor flinched back slightly, but didn't look truly alarmed. The man was difficult to ruffle, to say the least.

"_Let_ her? I don't recall her being _my_ prisoner." The Doctor leveled a steady gaze at him, _still_ annoyed with him keeping secrets. "Where has she gone?" His eyes searched but found that she was absent. The ground shook beneath their feet and then the Doctor's face changed to concern. "What's going on?"

"Was that the Judoon again?" Donna frowned, she pushed her way over to the scanner screen. "We're back. But, I don't understand, what's happened to Fitz?"

"They didn't want _me_." The Professor growled at them both, his eyes smoldering with rage. The Doctor should have _known_, he should have kept her safe. This was _his_ fault. "They _took_ Fitz."

"Well that's rubbish, what do they want with her?" The Doctor frowned at him, not taking it seriously.

"What does it matter?" Donna gave him a shove as she walked by. "They've got her, and I don't recall them being real thorough about fixing mistakes." He felt the muscles in his jaw loosen just slightly, _perhaps_ when this was all over with, he would allow her to live.

"They didn't want her…" He suddenly realized with clarity. "They _wanted_ Rassilon." The war criminal, Rassilon. Perhaps the greatest of them all, if they accounted for what crimes he could have committed.

"Blimey." The color drained from Donna's face. "We're in real trouble then."

"Yes." He hissed, her stating the obvious wasn't exactly helpful. "Which is why we need to track her down right _now_." He headed over to the console, beginning to flip dials. He didn't need the Doctor's permission, and he didn't have time to worry if he was over stepping his bounds.

"They've already jumped." That was the Doctor chiming in, as unhelpful as usual. "We can follow them easily enough, but I doubt we'll get there in time. With a problem like Rassilon on their hands, the sooner the better, I imagine."

"We aren't going to follow them, we're going to _intercept_ them" He snapped back irritably. Why did he act like everything was so _bloody _difficult?

"Well, we could triangulate the path they would take between here and Bursar Five, but that's an awful lot of guess work. And the possibility of splicing is…well. Rather large." The Doctor frowned, though it didn't seem like he was entirely opposed to trying it. "But that's alright, I'm brilliant at guessing. Just ask anyone." He grinned as he started plugging in equations rapidly on the typewriter.

"Or rubbish." Donna rolled her eyes.

"We don't _need_ to guess. We can find them using the same bio data survey that they used to ground us." The Professor was already pulling up the calculations needed for that, much simpler, cleaner, and far less likely to get them spliced into fragments of atoms.

"Bio data? But we'd need a sample for that to work." The Doctor frowned and stopped his typing to see what the Professor was doing. He paused his work on the screen just long enough to grab a towel from underneath the console and wiped it across his lips.

"Yes, and we've _got_ a sample." He held the towel out to the Doctor.

"They weren't looking for _you_…" The Doctor took the towel with a curious look. "But…why've you got a bio sample of Fitz's in your mouth-" The Doctor's eyes flicked up to his own. _Now_ he understood. Stupid _oblivious_ man. Of course, Donna was grinning, she knew exactly what had happened. Perhaps he _wouldn't_ be sparing her when the time came. Smug woman.

"Oh. _Blimey_." The Doctor sounded a bit flustered. "What _exactly_ were you doing out there?" He was angry then, trying to protect his flock. Well, Fitz _wasn't_ one of his sheep.

"Is now _really_ the time for personal questions?" He narrowed his eyes at the Doctor.

"No," The Doctor frowned. "I suppose not. But don't think I _won't_ find the right time." He wagged his finger at him menacingly.

"Not like I haven't heard _that_ before." The Professor rolled his eyes, returning to his place on the console.

"Right. Then. Bio data sample _attained_." The Doctor shot another glare in his direction before placing the towel in the receptacle.

"Doctor?" The door of the TARDIS was banging loudly and he recognized that girl's angry voice. What was her name again? Oh yes, _Amy_, the red head. "Doctor! What are you playing at? Taking off like that? Open the door!"

"Maybe he's not in?" Rory, the one with the _nose_, responded.

The Doctor pulled a face as he stared at the door. "Probably not the _best_ time to have them tagging along…" He frowned. "Um. We're just popping off for a bit, Pond! Be back shortly! Keep the chips warm!" He yelled loud enough so that they wouldn't have to open the door.

"Don't you dare!" She shouted, pounding on the door harder. The Doctor reached across the panel and twisted the uncoupling lever, sending the TARDIS humming into orbit and her knocks were instantly quieted.

"Sorry!" The Doctor shouted, knowing they were already gone.

"Well, you're going to pay for that when you get back, spaceman." Donna smirked.

"Yes, yes. I'm sure. Let's just work on _getting_ back, shall we?" The Doctor nodded to the Professor and he pushed in the zig zag plotter. He let the Doctor focus on finding the intercept point while he kept the TARDIS from landing in the middle of a wall, or in between universes. While the bio data certainly helped their circumstances, dropping in on another spaceship mid flight was only less difficult than impossible by a hairs width.

The ship shook and rumbled around them, instead of flying it felt like they were spinning in the breeze, like a kite without an anchor.

"Have you got it?" The Professor had to shout to be heard, he could see the Doctor running about, the towel starting to smoke and sizzle, hopefully it wouldn't catch fire.

"Almost, almost…" He waved his hand at the towel, coughing on the thick fumes. "I just need…" His hand was firmly on the blue stabilizer, but even that didn't seem to be helping much. The Professor was worried what would happen if he let go. Instead, the Doctor reached out with his foot and kicked the zig zag plotter twice so it returned to its resting position. "Hah!" He smirked as the TARDIS stopped its violent shaking and the Professor looked carefully over the scanner screen. They had managed to land, and they had done it without ripping a hole in the fabric of space. That was a good start.

"So." Donna said, her knuckles white against the railing. "What's the plan then?"

The Doctor pressed his fingers against his lips, motioning her to quiet. He crept over to the TARDIS door and opened it just a crack. "No alarms…" He said softly. "That's a good sign."

"What, you think I would land us in the mess hall?" He scowled at the Doctor. "We're down in the auxiliary engines. We shouldn't run into anyone." He was already busy pulling up the schematics of the ship around them, it wouldn't be hard to find where Fitz was. The Judoon weren't known for their sophisticated ship design, or subtlety.

"Here." He pointed to the screen, sensing the Doctor looming over his shoulder. "Two separate generators are pouring power into this room. Electrified cage?" He shook his head, whatever it was, he just hoped it meant she was still alive.

What if she wasn't?

He felt his teeth lock together as he imagined tearing out a Judoon's still beating heart and feeding it to him. And still, deep inside, he knew it wouldn't be enough. So he pushed the thought aside. She _wasn't_ dead. He refused to accept that was an option.

"Alright then." The Doctor headed toward the door, and he was right on his heels. "Donna, if you'll just-"

"Oh no." She jumped in front of the door. "You're not just leaving me behind to babysit the ship." Her arms were crossed over her chest in a huff.

"Dissension in the ranks?" The Professor sneered at her, right now she was blocking the door. Right where she shouldn't want to be, if she was clever.

"Yes, _alright_." The Doctor stuffed his hands into his jacket pocket, tossing the sonic screwdriver to Donna who caught it without hesitation. "I imagine they're not going to just up and let us leave with Fitz. Maybe you can find their records room and take care of things on that end."

"Take care of things?" Donna scowled. "Like if I just wipe Rassilon off the map, they'll forget all about it?" She didn't look convinced.

"Yes, well. They're…_bureaucrats._" The Doctor muttered mutinously. "Without the paperwork to prove it, I doubt they'll be much use." She nodded but just before she disappeared the Doctor grabbed her arm. "Perhaps, if you run across some of the Master's more…_illustrious_ records you might…make those disappear as well."

"Oh," Donna wrinkled her nose. "Does that mean we're keeping him?"

"Oh get on with it." The Doctor shooed her out the door. _Keeping_ him, like he was a bloody pet. "You're not going to be a problem, are you?" The Doctor finally asked him once Donna had disappeared. Perhaps his foul mood had been a little too obvious.

Yes, it had occurred to him to reset the engines to cause the plasma thrusters to feed back into the iridium chamber of the ship. And maybe that _would_ have caused the ship to tear itself apart mid warp. He had even checked on the schematics to ensure that he would be able to find all the areas he needed to make sure this plan came to fruition.

But that was plan B.

"I just want to get her back." He growled. Every minute they delayed, was another that could result in Fitz _dead_. Either at the hands of the Judoon, or worse, Rassilon. He wasn't willing to risk that just to settle his vendetta with the Judoon. Not _yet_ anyway. That didn't mean he wasn't still keeping it in mind for the future.

"Alright." The Doctor nodded. "Then let's go." He let the Doctor take the lead, if only to let him feel like he was still in control. If the Doctor moved too slowly, or didn't respond the way he thought he should, that was another story. But if it made him less wary now, that was all that mattered.

They moved through the auxiliary quickly and without running into any of the crew. Being a race of little more than cosmic thugs, he seriously doubted there were any capable engineers on the ship. Fortunately, their simple designs made it easy to follow along beneath the main gangways, making their trip through the ship both efficient and well hidden. Which he supposed was good, because, despite the Doctor not being fully aware, he _did_ intend to lay waste to anyone or anything that got in his way. He probably wouldn't slow down long enough to make sure they were dead, but he would certainly make sure they were sorry they had _ever_ crossed his path.

The pair of footsteps above brought them to a standstill. With the steady march, it was easy to see they were moving with official intent. Which likely meant Fitz. He peered up through the grated floors to get a better look at them, they weren't the usual black clad thugs, they were different. They were without their helmets, exposing their leathery gray skin. One was dressed entirely in white, and the other, crimson. If he had to take a guess, he'd say it was the judge and the executioner. When he made eye contact with the Doctor, he saw he suspected the same. Both of them on the way to Fitz's 'trial' then. Which meant their time was quickly drawing to an end. He started to scrabble up the sides of the tunnel they were following, up until he reached the floor itself, waiting for the Judoon to gain enough distance that their sudden appearance would go unnoticed. They weren't exactly the most wary of creatures, something they might live to regret.

The Doctor helped him lift the grating silently and place it off to the side so they could climb out, he felt all his muscles tense as he watched the Judoon walk away. He could kill them both now, that would solve that anxious feeling in his gut. His hand creeping for the laser screwdriver was stopped by the Doctor popping up next to him.

"Let's just follow them, shall we?" He said in a light tone, clearly recognizing the Professor's intentions. He gave a curt nod and then they were both lurking at a safe distance, turning down the corner when they saw the doorway at the end of the hall. It was flanked by two more of their grunt soldiers. The door hissed open as the judge approached and just past the cluster of Judoon he could see her. She was strapped to a chair in the center of the room, an electric barrier surrounding her. As soon as the Judoon turned and entered the room as a group, he was running for the door. He didn't wait to see what the Doctor would do, or if he would follow. It didn't matter, he had seen Fitz and all that stood in his way was a handful of Judoon. Just the thing for target practice.

But as soon as he entered the room, a pair of hands grabbed his shoulder, pulling him down behind the benches that circled the platform. He glowered at the Doctor who was hunched down beside him.

"Sho! Ro! Sco!" The Judoon seemed not to have noticed them.

"Maybe it's not the best idea to start a _war_ with the Judoon." The Doctor scowled at him.

"I didn't start anything!" The Professor hissed back, doing his best to keep an eye on Fitz. Her head was lolling around on her shoulders and she was struggling to keep her eyes open. The Judge held out a small handheld device which he read off of.

"No comprende…" Fitz mumbled, squinting like she had a headache.

"Yes, well it won't matter who started it, because I seriously doubt you and me together will be able to take on an entire platoon of Judoon!" The Doctor's serious tone couldn't quite the smirk that appeared when he rhymed.

"Well what do you suggest? That we _talk_ them out of it?"

"That is _exactly_-" But the sharp metallic sound of a weapon being drawn caught both of their attention. His eyes snapped to the executioner, who now had the blade that had been strapped to his back out and directed at Fitz. The judge pressed a button on the wall and the electric field faded, leaving her exposed and still trapped in her chair.

He didn't wait for the Doctor to react, he was already hurling himself over the benches, his laser screwdriver in his hand. "Get away from her!" He shouted as he fired it, hitting the executioner square in the back. He wasn't thrown very far, his armor and thick skin protected him well enough, be he did drop to his knees and the sword clattered to the ground behind him. Before the judge or the two guards could move, the Professor had hoisted it up into his own hand, raising the blade over his head to bring it crashing down on the Judoon's own.

"Don't," Fitz's voice was barely a whisper but it cut through his red vision like a shock. "I'm fine." She didn't know what she was rambling about, she was delusional. But still he hesitated, the blade hanging in the air.

"Hello! Hi, I'm sorry, my colleague here is just a bit overzealous." The Doctor was rushing forward, the psychic paper in his hands. "Yes, I'm Inspector Spacetime with the auditing authority." At the word 'auditing' the Judoon began to shift and grumble nervously. Bureaucrats _indeed_. "We're just here to make sure the legal proceedings are going according to plan," The Doctor nodded in a very official manner as he crossed the room to stand near the Professor. "Put the sword _down_." He said out of the corner of his mouth. Despite his misgivings, he lowered it.

"Do you mind?" The Doctor said brightly as he reached for the judges scanning gun, it grunted once but made no move to stop him. "Yes, thank you. Just checking protocol here." He turned to where Fitz was still sitting and gave the Professor a nervous look. Either Donna had taken care of it, or they were in serious trouble. The Professor tightened his grip on the blade.

BLAT went the gun and he let out a slow breath of relief.

"Oh, my. That's not good at _all_." The Doctor made his voice quite serious and turned on the Judoon. "No, not good at all. Is this how you conduct your trials?"

"Sko! Do! Lo!" The judge insisted, shaking its head emphatically.

"Yes, of _course_ you were going to scan her again, I expect nothing more. You do realize that this would have been a _very_ serious offense." The Professor dropped the sword and rushed to Fitz's side, unlocking her restraints as he went, she slumped back in the chair with nothing to support her.

"Hey," She mumbled a greeting as she recognized him, she still seemed pretty out of it.

"Hey." He gave a strained smile.

"Are you seeing a herd of rhinos in jumpsuits too?" He started to help her stand, but found her limbs were largely useless.

"Yes, now shut up for a bit." He said with a grunt as he hoisted her into his arms.

"Well, I'll let it slid _this_ time." The Doctor had his finger jabbed into the judge's chest. "But don't think we won't be checking up on you in the future. I certainly _hope_ we don't meet again, because if we do, you _aren't_ going to be pleased about it." He tossed the scanning gun to the floor. "Get him cleaned up." He said before turning on his heel and striding out the door. The Professor followed quickly behind, shooting the Judoon a scalding look as he went.

"Best leg it, I'd say we've got maybe a minute before they realize I was bluffing." The Doctor said frowning over his shoulder.

"I'm not looking to sightsee." The Professor grunted, picking up his pace to match the Doctor's.

"Koschei?" Fitz opened her eyes and saw clearly again. Her skin was so pale and she was covered in a slick sheen of sweat. He could _feel_ the heat boiling off her.

"Yes, it's me. I've got you." He told her gruffly. "It's going to be alright."

"Good," She whispered letting her eyes flutter shut. "Because I think it's about to get really bad."

An alarm suddenly echoed down the halls, red lights flashing and they could hear the footsteps of several dozen Judoon closing in on them.

"Perhaps _less_ than a minute." The Doctor said.


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: Oh em gee guys! 100 reviews! That is all kinds of crazy sauce! Thank you guys so so much! You are infinitely fabulous in every kind of way!**

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><p>"<em>Breathe, keep breathing. Don't lose your nerve. Breathe, keep breathing. I can't do this alone."<em>

Ugh. It's my new theme word for the day. The _week_, actually. Ugh to the max.

"Stay with me, Fitz." I can hear him, but it's like he's shouting from a long way off. When I flutter my eyes open, I can tell he's not. He's looming right above me. Why can't I answer him? It seems like too much effort. I wish I could push him away though, that's also beyond my ability, but he's just so _hot, _unbearably so. When he finally lays me down on the TARDIS floor I breathe a sigh of relief, I try to coordinate my arms to flop me over onto the wonderfully cool glass, desperate to press my face against it. But people are fussing with my limbs, holding me down, generally pissing me off.

I pry open my eyes to glare at them, so they can know how _much_ they're pissing me off, but I'm pretty sure the effect is lost on them. Jerks. Donna is there, above my head, looking up at her makes me dizzy. There's a scowl in here for her, but it doesn't quite reach my face.

"Drink this," She's saying, pushing something against my lips. I try to oblige, I really am incredibly thirsty. Most of it just dribbles down my face. I don't mind too much, it does feel nice. I gulp down what little water I collected and my throat feels like it's on fire. Why does everything _hurt_ so damn much?

Oh, right, I'm dying. I remember now. It's not it the 'I feel all sad and mopey because at any minute things could go wrong and I _might_ die'. That was the kind I had been experiencing all week. The safe kind, the kind that I convinced myself wasn't really going to happen. Bad things weren't _real_ life, that was just the movies. I was going to be just fine. I had completely believed that. _Idiot_.

No, this was the 'my body is in full crisis mode and it's shutting the fuck down' kind of dying. The real immediate kind. The kind that made me want to curl into a ball and cry. But I don't even have the energy for that. Besides, I can't focus on my own misery, everything is so busy, my heart feels like it's going a million miles a minute, everyone is shouting. I can only catch glimpses, it's taking real effort to focus on just being still. On taking another breath and not melting into a puddle.

Ah, a puddle _would_ be nice.

No. Another breath. We'll revisit the puddle option after you breathe again.

The time lord in me seems to understand this is the end because he hasn't been testing the controls at all. I can't be sure, but there's a strange trace of fear, lurking in the back of my mind, I think it might be him. He _better_ be afraid. This was all his damn fault.

"She's not going to make it to the bloody hospital!" Koschei's shouting at someone, sounds like he wants to go on a murder spree, like that'll change anything. He's not sounding particularly optimistic either, which was good, because I wasn't feeling very optimistic either.

"Professor…she's-" Donna's voice cuts off, her hand runs across my face, brushing at my hair. The shouting stops then, they're all unnaturally quite. Hah. Jokes on them. That's what they get for investing in a flimsy little human. This was just like the time I had brought home a goldfish from the fair. I fed it, named it, told it all of my secrets. We had a club together. And the next day it went belly up in the bowl.

That's what I was, a _goldfish_. Only good enough for a short while out in the exotic and crazy big universe. And now I'm floating in my tank. Well, nearing the top anyway. Had to keep reminding myself I wasn't dead _yet_. Had to remind myself to breathe. I hoped I had lived a good fishy life. It was probably awesome compared to a fish, compared to a human? I wasn't so sure. I was kind of a disappointment.

Oh, my mom. Someone should really tell my mom that I wasn't coming home. My hand clutched desperately at Donna's, or Koschei's. I wasn't sure who was holding me anymore. They were all blurry pink blobs. But I couldn't open my mouth, couldn't force any kind of noise from it that would mean something.

"There may be another way…" The Doctor's voice was so grave I thought he might suggest chopping me into pieces instead of letting me die of the fever. It almost didn't seem like a bad idea.

"What? What is it?" Koschei sounded desperate and angry at the same time. I wanted to reassure him, tell him that goldfish didn't live that long anyway. I was going to go to the big sea in the sky, with all my other fishy friends, and be happy in fishy heaven, or wherever we were supposed to hang out.

God, I hoped I didn't go to fishy heaven. I stopped liking fish immediately after the incident with Goldine. Plus, it probably smelled. Like _fish_.

"Well, if there's already been a psychic link established…I suppose it would be perfectly viable that one could…remove the problem…" Remove the problem, like pulling teeth. Not to worry everyone, it's just a cavity! "If there is another vessel." He finished somberly.

Vessel? Like, what, a trash bin?

"I'll do it."

Oh. _Great_. I didn't have the energy to scold Koschei and his stupid plans. But I also didn't have the time, because I blacked out. Cut scene, roll the credits. I was done.

Except, I was strangely…_aware_ for being unconscious. In a very 'lucid dream' kind of way. I thought maybe I was drifting in the black nothingness, possibly in limbo, or hell. Crap, I knew I shouldn't have been talking smack about fish heaven.

But when I went looking for my limbs, they were there. Unsettlingly, growing out of nothing. It reminded me of that stupid TARDIS. But, as it was, I'd rather have limbs then _not_. Sprawled on the floor, I didn't feel miserable, _or_ like I was dying.

That was weird.

I pushed myself up off the ground and looked around. It was dark. But it wasn't _dark_. It looked more like someone had painted all the walls black, because I could see myself, just not much else.

"I thought, perhaps, it was time for us to speak."

Something about the silkiness of the voice made all my hairs stand on end. I turned slowly to find another person standing in this dark room with me. He was tall, and wearing long flowing robes of crimson. Looking very official, or, like a pompous ass. I'll let you guess which I settled on.

But there was something _very_ wrong with his face. It was shifting, and not in that 'I can't decide on how I want to smile for a picture' kind of way. It was like he was one of those crappy rabbit eared television sets and it was stuck between channels. For a while I could see him clearly, he was older looking, smiling benevolently. And then his eyes would change, and that would cause everything to blur and morph. Sometimes he looked angry, or sad, or screaming.

It was making me uncomfortable. And it creepy as all hell.

My panic level was reaching a new all time high.

"Who are you?" I asked with an edge to my voice. I thought about stepping back, but where was there to go?

_Away. _My mind screamed at me. _Away from silly putty face! Anywhere but here!_

I had the sinking feeling that distance wasn't really the same here, wherever _here_ was. That no matter how many steps away I took, I would always be just out of arms reach of his creepy smile.

"Come now," His voice was mocking. "I know you're little more than an incompetent fool, but such an idiot as well? I had thought in our time together that _some_ of my higher intelligence would have effected you." That smile was on his face, and then he was red faced and screaming, and then it flickered to calm again. I tried my best not to look directly at him anymore.

"You're the time lord." I suppose I knew that already. Because we had to be in my head. My plans for imminent death weren't really put on hold, I just wasn't experiencing them at that particular moment. There was also something alarmingly menacing and familiar about him.

"Yes. That's me. Rassilon, to be precise. I was the president of them all, before the Doctor and the Master destroyed my people."

"_Rassilon_." I repeated the name, not really knowing why. It sounded louder when I had said it. "Why did that-"

"_Fitz? Fitz! We have to do it now, he's killing her!"_ That was Koschei, muffled even more than he had been. There were more words, but I didn't hear them.

"Oh, just keeping my promise to an old friend. I hope you don't mind. We do, after all, _share_ this body. Only proper that I get _some_ say in how our final moments are spent."

"No, we don't _share_ anything. You hitched a ride. But that's about to end." I was feeling much bolder than normal. Possibly, because I knew I only had to kill a few minutes before we were _both_ dead. It didn't seem like there was much he could do to threaten me.

"And that is a great loss. I had hoped we could be a team, united against the wrongs that had been committed against my people." He almost sounded honest when he said that. Almost.

"Yeah, Koschei and the Doctor seem to think you were a bit of a bad seed. _Evil_ I think they mentioned."

"A pity they saw things that way." His face was a scowl, except when it wasn't. "It is precious that you have taken to calling him _that_. Koschei. A nice pacifying name to give a murderer."

"Yeah, well. He didn't seem to like Pete."

"I didn't bring you here to exchange snide remarks." His voice was angry, but it only occasionally matched his face. It was like he had forgotten what a normal expression looked like. Instead of fluid motions, he was a flipbook, and he was missing most of the pages. "I brought you here so that we might make a deal."

"_I want you to think very carefully…no coming back…death_._" _

I didn't know what was going on in the real world, but the fragments I was catching were getting less and less reassuring. Whatever they were talking about, it sounded bad, _really_ bad.

"I don't think you've got anything I want." I frowned at him, hoping my own face wasn't a hacked together nightmare. "In fact, unless you brought a unicorn in here with you, I _know_ you don't."

"I thought perhaps you'd be interested in _living_."

Well, he had me there. That _was_ tempting. In fact, it was _really_ tempting.

"You think? What's in it for you?"

"Well, I obviously can't stay here." He looked around the dark room as though he were remarking on a particularly rundown apartment instead of the inside of my head. Perhaps they were equally shabby in his opinion. "But I _could_ survive in another species. A time lord, actually, would do quite nicely. I believe you may even have a volunteer." That bland smile was affixed permanently to his face now.

If I had been capable in breaking out into a cold sweat in my current, nonphysical manifestation of myself, I probably would have.

"I don't think so." My voice was a dangerous growl. Koschei would have been proud.

"_I have thought it through. I'm certain. More certain than I've ever been."_

Oh that idiot. That stupid _stupid_ idiot.

"I'm not sure he agrees with you." Rassilon's tone was pitying. "Besides, why would you spare him? Do you know of his crimes? He is a betrayer, a murderer, his soul is a dark stain in this world."

"Yeah, I know all about you too." Okay, it was a bit of a bluff, and apparently, a poor one, because Rassilon threw back his head and started to laugh.

"No child. You have _no_ idea. The things that man has done. The things he is _still_ yet capable of. You protect a _monster_."

The way he said it, there was no doubt in my mind it was true. I had kind of believed Koschei, maybe, okay, probably not. I had sort of pushed back the whole 'brainwashing people and allowing them to die' thing, deep into the far recesses of my mind. It was just, well, he had been nice to _me_. Relatively, anyway. He told me he would help me, and I believed that, if nothing else. So it made all the scarier parts a bit easier to ignore. They were filed under 'things that weren't my problem'.

But apparently, they were.

Despite my belief that this Rassilon guy was a piece of crap, and would lie about anything and everything to get what he wanted, I didn't think that was what he was doing. In fact, I _knew_ it. I felt the honesty of it with every bone in my body. It had the gravity of the truth to it, with a capital T. And it wormed its way deep inside.

"Yes." I admitted. "I do." It was incredible how crappy that ultimately made me feel. Did I really believe he had turned over a new leaf? Not really. But I know I _hoped_ he had. But what it really came down to was my own wants and needs. I didn't _want_ him to die. It didn't matter what he had done.

Would I feel the same way if I had seen it?

Granted, it wasn't like Rassilon would be any better to unleash on the world.

But that wasn't really the argument I was having in my head. That was just the argument I was having with Rassilon. In my head…

Well. It was different.

Whatever.

"I have lived _eons_, little girl." He spat the words at me, his face shifting between the screaming maniac and the grinning fool. "Do you really think I will be thwarted by a _human_ of all things? I will break free and force the issue, and now you will _not_ be so lucky as to survive." He rushed at me, but then vanished. He wasn't gone. I could still feel him, the ground rumbled and shook, he was coming like a freight train. He would take over, he would win, he would throw himself out from my broken body, and he would latch onto Koschei. He would live forever. And he would leave _me_ to die.

Well. A couple things.

No.

And two.

Hells to the no.

I took a deep breath to steady my nerves, and I concentrated on a wall. A _big_ wall. It was solid, and red, made of the strongest bricks known to man. It was higher than the tallest buildings. It stretched out to the ends of the earth. Well. My dark room earth, anyway. Good luck getting past _that, _jerk.

"Fitz?" If this had been the real world, I totally would have jumped out of my skin. I was relieved to see it was Koschei, and my wall still stood. But the relief was pretty lukewarm when I remembered why he was here.

"What are you doing here?" If I sounded a little irritable, it was probably because I _was_. Behind that carefully constructed wall I had worked so hard to build, I could feel Rassilon battering against it, testing my limits. He knew Koschei was here, all he had to do was get past me. And then we'd both be dead.

But if I could hold on. If I could fight him off just a little while longer. Well. _I'd_ still be dead. But so would Rassilon. And that's what I decided I cared about. That was my end game.

"Trying to help you." He frowned, I was grateful that his face was the normal way I remembered it. At least one sane thing I could focus on. He seemed a bit surprised to see me all, walking, and not very death-like. I imagine it had something to do with how sickly I actually was.

Good, that probably made him less angry and bitey than he normally would be. Successfully giving me the upper hand. Great. Mwaha. Hah.

All part of the plan.

That I was totally winging.

"Well, I'm all set. Got my wall. Got my endless black room. Totally fine. Thanks though."

"Fitz. You're dying." His tone was seriously aggravated. So my upper hand dwindled pretty quickly. This was the man that _Rassilon_ had called a monster, so maybe I had been optimistic in thinking he'd stay surprised.

"Yep. But I'm all sorted, as you can see. So, thanks for stopping by." I made a general shooing motion.

"I'm not going to let that happen." He strode forward, looking like he was considering strangling me for being intentionally difficult. So, you know. His _usual_ face.

"Listen, I know why you're here. I know what you and the Doctor are planning," Well, I _sort of_ knew. That still counted, right? "But you know what? I went ahead and decided against it. I wasn't going to let you take the fall for me on the moon, and I'm sure as _shit_ not changing my mind now. So just, go ahead and get out. Seriously." As far as speeches go, I thought it was one of the better ones I had delivered.

It also seemed to piss him off pretty well.

"That isn't your decision." He spat at me, nearly as scary looking as Rassilon. Instead of eating Wheaties for breakfast, those time lord kids must have munched on 'ominous' and 'unsettling' or perhaps just the bones of tiny baby birds. They all really had a knack for inspiring terror.

"_My_ brain. _My_ decisions." If I wasn't feeling particularly scary, I was certainly going to _fake_ it. I jammed my hands on my hips, doing the best impression of my scolding mother that I knew how.

"I can _force_ you." I saw that he wasn't just putting on a show, he _meant_ it. He was _actually_ threatening me.

"Funny," I said, now I _was_ feeling pretty pissed off. "You're not the first time lord to tell me that today. I'd like to see you fucking try it time-boy." There were now some serious regrets floating around in my head about trying to save this stupid _ass_ from Rassilon. I was just going to do it out of _spite_ now. Hell, I was only still _alive _because of spite. It was my miracle juice and my purpose all wrapped into one.

It looked like I had knocked the wind out of him. He couldn't think of anything to say in response, but it certainly wiped the glare off his face. Although, I could see from the way his jaw was working, that several things _had_ occurred to him to say.

"I'm sorry." He finally settled on. Crafty devil.

"You should be." I was determined _not_ to melt into a puddle of goo just because he was capable of an apology. Or at least, I wasn't going to admit it to him that I _had, _anyway. He smirked, those golden eyes of his twinkling with amusement. But they were also sad. I reminded myself it was probably a bad idea to be looking into his eyes so deeply.

"You're really going to do this, aren't you?" He sounded defeated, and bitter. He sounded so utterly _alone_.

Suddenly I wanted to reach out to him, the stupid puddle of goo that I was. I wanted to comfort him. Promise it was all going to be okay. I didn't like the idea that he could look so crushed. Of course, a small part of me relished that I had that kind of effect on him. But that part was probably going to hell, actually, _all_ of my parts were probably going to take a ride in that hand basket. I swore an awful lot, and I had heard that was sort of frowned upon upstairs.

"Yeah. I am." The spite had died down. I was back to not wanting him to die. _Especially_ not for me. He had never been a part of this. I was just really unlucky. It sucked, but that was the truth of it.

He stepped forward and took my hand, catching me off guard. It felt weird, the contact, it wasn't the physical sensation of the real world, but it sent my heart racing regardless. Of course, that could just be my fever-wracked body doing that. Who knew?

"Is there anything I can do?" His voice was so gentle I almost didn't recognize it. Bits of me tumbled and shattered inside. This was much shittier than the moon. There had still been hope, however _stupid_ it was, that things would work out all right. There was _no_ hope right now. Only acceptance. It was so much worse to _know_.

"My mom." I tried not to sob as I said it. I didn't want to make this any worse. "If someone could tell my mom what happened…" I trailed off. What would they tell her? What _could_ they tell her? Hopefully not something that would have her blaming them. Oh well, I'm sure they'd think of something. I only hoped that they didn't make up something stupid, like me tripping over a rock and falling off a bridge. Though, that would probably be the most _plausible_ explanation.

"Of course." He nodded, his other hand came up to hold me, squeezing me in a reassuring hug. I wanted to cry, but I fought against it. If I turned into an emotional wreck, who knew what I would say or do? If this was the real world, I would have lost it ten minutes ago. I was grateful for my limited control here.

"Can you do something for me?" He flayed me with his pained eyes.

"Whatever I can do in the next three minutes," I said with a mirthless laugh. "I'm all yours." There was a joke in there about something inappropriate, but I didn't have the heart for it. He pulled me tighter against him and I buried my face in his shoulder. I wish I could have done this, one last time, for _real_. Not in my brain where everything felt all fuzzy and weird.

"Forgive me." He whispered in my ear.

It didn't make sense, those words. And neither did the fact that my hands were grasping at nothing all of the sudden. I blinked and looked around. Where had he…?

I felt a sharp pain, and then it passed. Replaced with a faint trickle in the back of my mind. My eyes snapped to the brick wall. It still stood, but it had been _breached_. I knew that just as clearly as I knew I was dying.

"No!" I screamed, running toward it. My fists slammed against the grainy texture, but it held strong. "No you _bastard_!" I shouted louder, my knuckles starting to bleed. I could tear down the wall if I wanted, I knew that. But I also knew, with an oily certainty, that it didn't matter. Not anymore.

Because it was too _late_.

I could hear him laughing. He had _won_.

That _asshole_.

Well, not Koschei, the asshole.

The other one.

I guess they were both on my black list at this point.


	25. Chapter 25

_"The night has reached its end. We can't pretend. We must run. It's time to run."_

She wasn't going to forgive him for that. He knew that just as well as he knew that he wasn't going to live long enough to deal with the consequences. The Doctor would fix that, as he had promised he would. They couldn't chance Rassilon escaping in his body, the things that man would do once he was loose would be catastrophic. He would be a danger to everyone around him, most importantly, Fitz. Let the Doctor worry about the rest of the universe.

Maybe this was the easier way, the way of less resistance. He had done it for her own bloody good after all. It wasn't his fault that she would be too stubborn and blind to see it that way. Or at least accept it.

Still, something akin to regret gnawed at his belly, scolding him for the betrayal. He had hoped that his last act might not make her think badly of him. That at least one person might remember him fondly when he was gone. What a fool he was.

He pushed those thoughts aside angrily. It didn't _matter_. What did matter, was that he could focus long enough to make sure Fitz would live through this. Rassilon's consciousness had been eager to greet him, happy to flee the failing body that would mean his own death. There hadn't even been a conversation, as soon as he had breached the wall in Fitz's mind, the time lord had come rushing toward him and it had taken all of his strength to resist the stronger mans onslaught in his own mind. He still needed to make sure that she was alright, that being within Fitz's mind for so long hadn't damaged her in such a permanent way that his exit would kill her.

It didn't seem like Rassilon had made any real effort to destroy her, he hadn't been lying when he thought he was going to survive within this human frame. There were changes though, he couldn't quite identify them all, and he wasn't sure he could change them back anyway. The radiation itself had somehow fused to her marrow, but instead of killing her, it was suspended in her blood.

He knew he was also needlessly lingering, delaying the inevitable moment when he would have to leave her. There was nothing else he could do here, nothing seemed to be badly broken enough that she would wake a demented fool. Or any more of a demented fool than she already was. Besides, healing was more the Doctor's style, he would just have to hope what he had been able to do would be enough.

Gradually he withdrew, carefully coming into himself again. Rassilon was like a fire burning in his veins, rage and anger, and strength. He battered at his mind, fighting to escape, to take over. He clenched his teeth and forced his eyes open.

"I've got the ice!" Donna cried out as she ran back toward him. Her voice was shrill and only served to make his throbbing headache worse. Blue ice packs dropped from her arms and clattered loudly onto the floor. He would have swore at her if he wasn't so focused on trying to keep his skull from splitting apart.

"Professor?" Only the Doctor seemed aware that he had come to. Donna was too busy packing the ice around Fitz's body.

"I'm ready." He looked up into his old enemies eyes, his fists pressed against the side of his head. "You have to do it. I can't hold much longer."

"Yes, well…about that." The Doctor pulled a face. "I've sort of had a change of heart. A bit. Not to fret." He clapped his hands together and turned back toward the console.

"_Doctor_." His voice came out as a growl. They _had_ a plan. The plan was to kill him once he had managed to pull Rassilon out of Fitz. They had _agreed_ on it, more than that he had sworn to him. That had been to only option, the only way to keep them all safe.

"Yes. That's me." The Doctor said, being deliberately irritating. Something overhead rolled on its rails but the Professor couldn't raise his head to see it. "And, if you _recall_, I wasn't particularly pleased about the whole _plan_. So I went ahead and changed it. Loads better than the last, I'm quite good at plans." The Doctor nodded to himself.

"I'm losing control-" His breath caught in his throat as he hunched over further, squeezing his eyes shut and buffering himself against Rassilon's attacks.

"It's alright, it's alright. Just needs a quick moment to warm up. Last time it was turning me into a human, so I've got to just change the settings here a bit…" His voice was distant as he turned his back.

"Just hang on." Donna said, though he didn't know if she was speaking to Fitz or himself. He felt his resolve breaking and he clutched at Fitz's hand, grasping it in his own. Just needing to know she was alive. Rassilon's voice echoed in his mind, mocking him, tormenting him.

"Fitz…" He whispered, his voice hoarse. There was a tear, sharp and sudden. And his eyes snapped closed.

"Doctor?" Donna's voice was louder. "I'm not sure he's got a quick moment-"

"No. It's fine. I'm fine." The Professor responded, a wide smile spreading across his face.

"Oh," She looked at him, startled. "Alright then. Well I think she's going to be alright. Her temperature is already dropping, whatever you did. I think it worked." He turned his gaze toward Donna, and then Fitz.

"Fine." He said dismissively as he stood up, with ease. His cheek twitched as he did so, the smooth smile fading slightly. He headed toward the Doctor, who was busying himself with a helmet that was hanging from the ceiling.

"Er…Professor?" Donna called after him, concern in her voice. He ignored her and pulled the laser screwdriver from his pocket. "Doctor!" She called out in warning, jumping up to follow.

"Well, look at that." The Doctor turned slowly and wore a sad smile. "You're looking rather…spritely."

"Yes. I'm feeling _much_ better. Thank you, Doctor."

"Right. I imagine now that you've got the Professor to stop fighting you, everything is going much smoother, Rassilon." The Doctor frowned.

"Oh," He laughed in an unpleasant way. "He hasn't stopped fighting. He's just not very strong."

"I think you'll find you're wrong about that." The Doctor smirked, suddenly raising his arm and aiming his sonic screwdriver at the Professor. "And this time, he's got friends. Granted, friends who didn't trust him a whole lot, but I think that works in our favor this time, that'll be a rather powerful stasis field around your wrist." The screwdriver whirred in its high pitch and the Professor opened his mouth in shock. And then he started to laugh.

"Oh, this thing you mean?" The Professor gestured to his wrist. "Surely you didn't expect the finest engineer the time lords had ever produced to let you leash him with a silly little piece of jewelry?"

"Professor you bloody idiot…" The Doctor's voice was weary now.

"I'm afraid he can't hear you." He snarled as he aimed at the Doctor with his own screwdriver and an orange beam shot out, catching him square in the chest. He just had enough time to look surprised before his eyes rolled back and he collapsed to the ground.

"Doctor!" Donna ran forward, grabbing the his slumped form. "Professor, what did you do? What the hell is going on?" She glared up at him.

"I'm not the Professor any more you half-breed." He sneered at her and turned to the center console. "You may call me lord president." He grinned, liking the sound of that.

"There ain't no bleeding time lord's any more. They're dead!" Donna insisted. She was having no luck reviving the Doctor who still lay unconscious on the floor. He didn't intend that she could. Of course, he wasn't _dead_. What fun would it be if he couldn't show the Doctor what he had done? What he was still going to do. Where was the glory if the Doctor didn't get to witness as he brought Gallifrey back to earth once more? Returning the time lords to the land of the living, and destroying his precious human race all in one fell swoop. He grinned, imagining the Doctor's face when he had his final victory. And then he would kill him. _Slowly_.

"They won't be for long. I'm going to bring them back." His hands trailed across the controls, it had been years, millennia even, since he had flown a TARDIS. "You'll have a front row seat. You and the Doctor both." He flicked a grin at Donna but it faded, she wasn't where he had seen her last. He stood back from the console and searched the TARDIS. Then he found her, dragging the Doctor across her shoulders, heading for the door.

"We're not going anywhere with you, you nutter!" She scowled back at him and threw the door open with her shoulder.

"No!" He screamed as he reached for the lever that would pull the TARDIS into the time vortex. He slammed it down, but just a moment too late. The Doctor and Donna both had jumped outside, and the door snapped shut in their absence as the ship took off. "Damn!" He kicked the machine, letting his fury consume him for a moment.

"No matter." He muttered as he ran his fingers through his hair. "If they want to spend their last moments on earth, then so be it." He pulled the scanner screen close to his face, he was floating in the time vortex itself, the only place he would be capable of breaking through the time lock that surrounded Gallifrey. He would need to be very precise in where he chose to bring the TARDIS through, there were several calculations to consider. With the Doctor safely away, he had plenty of time to make sure he got them right.

"Koschei?" A quiet voice spoke up behind him. He turned, his face contorted in confusion. Fitz was there, still sitting on the glass floor, looking groggy.

"Ah, yes. Fitz. What shall we do with you?" He grinned wickedly. His whole body clenched violently and there was a rushing noise in his ears, he groaned as he bent over, clutching his chest against the pain.

"Run!" He croaked, raising his gaze to meet Fitz's. His eyes bulged with the effort, the Professor was struggling for even this little control.

"What's going on?" She glared at him accusingly as she stood on shaky legs. "Where is everyone?" She frowned, for the first time starting to look concerned.

"Fitz, he's in me." His words were halting, each one harder to say than the last. "Rassilon. You have to _run_." His face twisted and he had to grab onto the console to keep from falling to the ground.

_I'm coming_. Rassilon whispered in his mind gleefully.

Fitz stepped forward, reaching out to him.

"_Run!_" He gasped, begging her with the last of his strength. Something in her eyes changed and she stepped back. Slowly at first, then she turned on her heel and ran. He shuddered and fell to the floor, finally relinquishing control back to Rassilon, knowing it would be for the last time.


	26. Chapter 26

"_And in your heart, you know it to be true, you know what you gotta do. They all depend on you"_

My heart's pounding in my ears, keeping time with my feet as they slam against the metal floor. Running away.

Probably loads slower than I actually thought I was going. The fever had fled my body, so I wasn't actively dying, that's in the plus column. But my whole body was still just a step above useless and I was sucking in wind like a chain smoker by the time I turned the second corner. And why weren't there any rooms when I freaking needed one? Where the hell were all the rooms? Even the one with the wishy-washy furniture would do right now.

Despite the growing stitch in my side, I couldn't slow down. I had to keep going. I had seen something in Koschei's eyes that had freaked me right the hell out. He was scared. Not just 'creepy clown jumping out at you' scared. No, this was _real_ fear. The palpable stuff that made your guts clench up and you skin break out in a nervous sweat. The kind that had me up and running thirty seconds after I had been on the brink of death. And I was _not_ a runner.

It hadn't just been the look in his eyes that had me flying down the halls. Or, maybe more accurately, jogging slightly slower than I could walk. It was Rassilon. I had recognized him easily, even in Koschei's skin, thought I hadn't really wanted to admit it. And the way he had said 'what shall we do with you' was going to give me nightmares for weeks. Even thinking about it made my skin crawl. I thought I had been fed up with being afraid all the time, but this kind of fear was in a league all its own. It had me wanting to run and scream and close my eyes forever.

But I didn't really have the spare lung capacity for screaming right now. And if I closed my eyes, I just knew I was going to run smack into a wall. And Koschei was trapped in there with him.

_Koschei_.

I should have stayed. I should have helped him. What kind of shitbag leaves someone behind? Me. My kind of shitbag. _He_ would have helped me. In fact, we were in this exact situation _because_ the jerk had helped me. Right after I had specifically told him _not_ to. It was the single bravest thing I had ever done, and he had _ruined_ it. With his god damn need to save the day. If I ever got him back I was going to _kill_ him.

And now there was the problem of Rassilon being in full control of a body. Of a time lord body. This wasn't going to go badly at all.

Now didn't really seem like the time to turn around and give Koschei an 'I told you so', no matter how tempting. It was probably poor taste. Also, I might end up dead.

My legs are jelly. Like, lime flavored jelly, packed into tubes around my bones. And they're going to collapse under me any second. I almost burst into tears when I saw the door, thank freaking Jesus somewhere to _hide_. And breathe. And not be running for two damn seconds. It opened and I slapped the button frantically on the other side until the metal wall finally slid shut behind me.

I let out a shaky breath and collapsed against it, my legs folding under me so suddenly I didn't realize it until my ass hit the ground. With some effort I drew them up and rested my elbows on my knees, sucking wind so loudly I could have been mistaken for a turbine engine. A sort of wheezy one. I should really start working out. Or at least jogging. Once.

Hell, who was I kidding? If I lived through this I was going to get the best damn couch money could buy and I was going to live on that sucker for the rest of my miserable life. Safely in front of the TV where no villains could get me. Except an early onset of heart disease. I should _be_ so lucky to die of a heart attack. Not right now mind you…later. With the couch.

That wasn't a particularly comforting thought when I finally looked around me. Instantly recognizing the room. It was still gray and empty, like the last time I had seen it. But decidedly less filled with rotting corpses like the last time I had seen it…before the last time. The Doctor had encouraged me to face my fear, after they decided it was harmless. He had shut down the program entirely, promised me nothing would appear. I still only made it two steps inside before I broke out in a cold sweat.

And now I was stuck here. In the god damn nightmare room.

"Oh come _on_." I still didn't have the strength to stand, much less leave. Besides, I didn't think that was really an option. Spooky nightmare room, which sometimes reanimated the dead, who also happened to sometimes have physical form. Okay, that was bad, really bad. But compared to spooky nightmare man? He was most definitely planning all sorts of unpleasant things right now, which may or may not include reanimating the dead. Still, it was _almost_ tempting to face him instead of this rather plain looking room. Instead I just closed my eyes and ran my hands through my sweaty hair.

"Christ I need help…" I said to break the oppressive quiet. It didn't help much, since I sounded weak and afraid. Not the stirring consolation I was looking for. Now that I was still, I realized that everything hurt. My joints bitched and moaned. My muscles felt like I had run a god damn marathon instead of just down the hallway. Apparently another thoughtful gift from Rassilon. _Ass_.

"Voice interface online. How can I help you?"

If I had been standing, you probably would have had to peel me off the ceiling. As it was, I was still crumpled on the ground, not really capable of getting any air. Instead, I jerked my head back in surprise, having forgotten I was against the door. Until, you know, my skull reminded me it was there. Suddenly. And pretty painfully.

I yelped.

And swore. And then swore a few more times for good measure. Scowling, I finally looked up.

"Doctor?" The voice had come from somewhere, and it appeared to be the Doctor. My annoyance quickly gave way to relief. I mean, the annoyance was still there, but the fact that there was someone, a real proper grown-up, who could fix this, was probably the best news I'd had all week. This was time lord alien bullshit anyway. Let _him_ come up with a solution. I'll just hang out over here, trying my best not to lose my freaking mind. And possibly make a run for it. If my legs are up to the challenge. Which…they probably won't be. He better have a real good plan.

"I am not the Doctor." He corrected me, in an oddly emotionless tone. He was still wearing that stupid bow tie, and that enormous forehead. If he wasn't the Doctor, than I was god damn MacGyver. And I was _terrible_ with paper clips. And duct tape for that matter. "I am a voice interface."

"I'm sorry, what?" Interface sounded clinical, all computery and such. He didn't look high tech, he looked like a nerd, an annoying nerd who was wasting my damn time. Though, he wasn't a walking corpse, so already my visit to the nightmare room was an improvement. Maybe my luck was finally turning around.

"I am a voice interface." He repeated in that same bland tone. "How can I help you?"

Well that was just peachy. The Doctor has gone off his rails. Maybe my luck had buried its head in the sand, never to be heard from again. "Listen, we don't really have time for this. Rassilon has taken over. He's in Ko- the Professor's head. This is _bad_." I clarified, in case he needed reminding. "Where's Donna?" She didn't seem to be the type to lose it, she would be able to help. The Doctor blinked once and gave a sharp nod.

"Donna Noble is with the Doctor."

I looked around the room, still just as empty as before. Actually, that was strange, how had he gotten here? I was very careful to check for zombies before I had risked closing my eyes. The room had been devoid of anything other than myself. "Where?" I asked irritably.

"They are in Cardiff, Great Britain. Europe. Earth. The Solar System. Milky Way galax-"

"Yeah, thanks." I stopped him. "You can just say 'I'm off my rocker' Doctor. It's easier." What the hell was I going to do? Apparently Donna had left the ship. Did I believe that? Maybe. Didn't really matter, because she wasn't _here _and that was really the only place she could be that would be useful to me.

"I am _not_ the Doctor. I am the voice interface." His response was less clinical than before. In fact, he sounded irritated. "And, honestly, it's getting rather tedious to have to repeat myself every time-" He paused, his carefully blank face suddenly melted into one of confusion. Great, so now we were both on the same page. If I could just get him looking frightened too, we'd be perfectly aligned. "Well that's _new_…" He blinked a few times and then looked at me, as if finally recognizing I was in the room. "How…" He stretched his lips wide then, like his face had fallen asleep and he was trying to revive it.

He was starting to worry me.

"Oh, this is _very_ odd." He finished stretching his mouth and then started to probe at his face with his fingers. He changed to making random noises, and then puckered his lips and attempted to whistle. He wasn't very good at it. I really wasn't in the mood for a trip to crazy town, not with passengers anyway. Actually, I wasn't in the mood for anything other than slipping into a coma. But this was the Doctor, and he was kind of my last hope. He needed to get his shit together right now, or I was going to go skipping off to join him on the crazy express. That would be bad.

I guess I wouldn't be freaking out so much. Plus I bet there's gotta to be some frequent flight miles that I'm racking up.

No. Still bad.

"Hey," I said, pushing myself up from the floor. God that hurt. I snapped my fingers to get his attention, he seemed to have just mastered whistling, in a halting sort of pathetic way. "Did you hear what I said? The part with Rassilon? Scary time lord? Kind of a big deal. Is there a plan for what to do about him? Because I'd really love to hear one."

"Plan?" He frowned, distracted from his whistling. "Don't be silly, he never _plans _things."

Okay, that sounded pretty accurate, but the whole third person? That smacked of crazy. The 'non-recoverable in time to save the day' kind. Crap. I stepped toward him, thinking maybe proximity to a _mostly_ sane person might help him. My limbs didn't thank me for the movement, but they were cooperating, for now.

"Are you feeling alright?" I didn't sound very sympathetic, it probably related to the fact that I wasn't feeling that way. It took every ounce of my self control not to scream at him. 'What the hell is wrong with you?' or 'Get your shit together!' or maybe 'AUUUUUGHHHHH!'. That last one probably wasn't going to help things, so it's good that I managed not to use it.

"Oh I'm feeling quite excellent." He said, suddenly grinning. "This is exciting. I've never been male before. I wonder…" His eyes snapped to mine and suddenly he had a firm grip on the back of my head. And then he puckered up and pressed his lips against mine.

In the second grade me and a boy were dared to kiss each other. This was a lot like that. Sloppy. Confusing. Weird. So _incredibly _awkward.

"What the _hell!_?" I jerked away from him but he didn't seem intent on holding me still.

"That was rather disappointing." He frowned. "It wasn't different at _all_…" I wasn't sure if I should be offended more because he had tried to put the moves on me, or because of the 'disappointing' comment. Either way. What the _hell_? "Oh! It's you!" He suddenly snapped. "You're the girl who's leaking all that radiation! Oh, brilliant! It should have killed you ages ago, but here you are!"

"Yeah. Me. Only my name is Fitz." I growled at him, trying to wipe the remnants of crazy time lord off my face. This whole rescue mission was taking a very disappointing turn for the hopeless. And doomed.

"Right. Right." He nodded seriously, and then ruined the effect by saying my name over and over again, in varying tones of voice. "How did you though? Survive? Doesn't make sense…" He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Oh. Of course! Hah!" He clapped his hands together and turned back to me. "It was a gradual biological redistribution! He thought he could make it work. What a silly man." He shook his head. "This body's not real though…ah. But you've been feeding into the psychic interface vacillator. Now it's not just projecting the psionic waves, it's actually giving them form. The particles are reacting-"

"Oh my god. You have to shut up. Right now." I took another step back from him. "Donna already told me about the holodeck. I don't care how it works." I shook my hands at him, begging him to stop. His frantic energy made his words blend together in a techno babble mush. Not that it would have made any more sense if he had slowed down any.

"Holodeck?" He frowned at me indignantly. "This isn't a holodeck! This is a state of the art piece of time lord technology that's been perfected over _billions_ of years-"

"I _know_ I just mentioned the part where I don't care." I glared at him. "You know what I _do_ care about? Rassilon. Him and his crazy little plans. That's on my 'big deal' right now. Maybe you could join me, we've got buttons."

"Oh, right." He nodded slowly, not looking particularly pleased with my tone. "The time lord." His hands went to his throat. "What a strange low voice…" He trailed off. "You said something about buttons?"

He was having a serious problem with his focus. I reared back and swung my palm at his face, connecting with a satisfying smack. He was going to start making sense dammit. And he was going to do it _now_.

"Ow!" He balked at me like I had just struck him. Oh. Wait. Yeah, I just did that. Good. At least I had his attention now. "You _slapped_ me!"

"Yeah, and I'll do it again if you don't start coming up with a damn plan!" Actually, if I were being honest, it felt pretty awesome. I had never slapped someone before, it was totally all it was cracked up to be. From the pink finger marks on his cheek, I'd say I was born for this. "We're in big trouble, and I am starting to lose my calm." Unfortunately, the last part came out a bit desperate and pleading. Probably because I was desperate. Sort of ruined the effect of me being a total slapping bad ass, but what were you going to do? "Please, Doctor."

"I already _told_ you." He rolled his eyes. "I am not the Doctor. I am the voice interface. Although…not really. I mean, not this time anyway. I should be. But I'm not. I'm actually the…wait. No, I remember…" His hand slowly slid down from his face where he had been cradling his cheek. "Ah! Yes. I'm the TARDIS. Time and relative dimension in space." He smiled quite proudly.

"If you use words like that again," I said very carefully, my fingers itching to fly at him again. "I will slap you. Again. Several times." Actually, I was having a hard time _not_ letting loose. I kind of just wanted to shake him senseless. It was a great stress reliever. And knowing I had absolutely no control over anything right then, well, it was giving me a lot of stress. And that was putting me in a semi violent kind of mood. Except replace semi with extremely, and you'd have a more accurate description.

"Alright! Alright!" He put up his hands defensively and took a step back. "I'll try and explain it better for your thick dull-" My arm was starting to rear back, almost unbeknownst to me. "Sorry, sorry. Poor choice of words. Your inferior brain…still not good?" He eyed my arm warily.

"No. Not even close."

"The ship. I'm the ship. The TARDIS." He said hastily.

"But…" Okay, maybe I did have an inferior brain, but I was pretty sure we were _inside_ the ship. Which made me less inclined to believe him. "You _look_ like the Doctor."

"Yes, that is the default setting." He looked down at himself as though disappointed. "The last time I took actual physical form I looked like this…" I watched as he shrunk a few inches, his hair grew out long and curly, darker too. And he became…a she. His pants ballooned out into a large shirt and his jacket shrunk into a tight fitting bodice. He was definitely a woman. This was just like those rooms. Except they didn't add a couch, they added breasts. And subtracted…er. Other things. I assumed.

"So…you're the ship." I said slowly, hoping that if I said it out loud maybe I would believe it, or maybe the Doctor would appear again and shout 'just kidding!' and things could go back to normal.

"Yes," the strange woman smiled. "That's me. Somehow your mutation has effected this room so that projections have become…well. Real. No, that's wrong. Not real. Artificially real. Substantial. Anyway." She stretched her neck and her form rippled again. The hair shrunk away and the Doctor's image appeared once more. In a dress. Briefly.

I snorted. Loudly. And then started to giggle. By the time I had stopped, tears were flowing freely down my cheeks and the Doctor was glowering at me, looking rather annoyed. He was also, mercifully, in his tweed jacket again. I guess 'he' was an 'it'. And not the Doctor, but the TARDIS.

No. That's too insane to think about.

"I don't see what's so funny." He humphed.

"It's an inferior mind thing. You wouldn't get it." I wish I had a camera. Koschei would have probably died to see the Doctor wearing a dress, and a _rack_. Oh, thinking about that stung a little. A lot actually. That killed whatever amusement I had been feeling. Killed it proper dead. Thanks reality, I wouldn't want to forget all the misery you seem intent on hammering down on me. "So what do we do then?"

"Well, I suppose we need to hunt ourselves a time lord." The Doctor said, shrugging. "I think I can pull out all the oxygen, though he'll only regenerate, but that should give us time to kill him permanently."

"Wait, what?" I felt like he had pulled all the air out of _this_ room. "Kill him? No. That's the Professor out there, you can't just _kill_ him." My voice was rising as I spoke. "He's a person!"

"Yes, but I'm afraid he's a person who's absorbed another, and rather dangerous, time lord. One who's in control and is planning on ripping all of space and time apart as we speak. He will literally unravel the universe." The Doctor said with his eyebrow raised.

"But…" Unravel the universe? Jesus. This _was_ a big deal. What's your big argument now slick? 'Please don't kill him, I like him lots'? I had the feeling that wasn't going to fly with Doctor McShippy here. "There's got to be another way." There was that wimpy sad voice again. Filled with defeat even before anyone had said 'no, you can't have ice cream for breakfast'. Ice cream was a dairy product. Lots of people had milk for breakfast, why was this any different?

Way off topic. Because I was deflecting. I didn't want to think about the real problem.

Why did Koschei have to _die_?

"Oh," The Doctor said thoughtfully. "Oh of course. You're the stray he picked up with the Professor. You-" He paused and looked uncomfortable. I flushed red, if I really was speaking to the ship, I wondered how familiar it was with our 'relationship'. Suddenly I was certain that this pervert TARDIS knew every sordid little detail, and I hated it.

"Yes." I said in confirmation. To being the stray, to traveling with the Professor. To whatever other things he was implying.

"Right. Well, unfortunately…" He trailed off, frowning with a passing thought. "Hah! Now I know what he was doing! That silly idiot." A grin spread across his face and he looked at me again. "You're absolutely right, there _is_ another way. The Doctor was working on it just before Rassilon shot him."

"Shot him? You're-" No, stupid. Not the ship. "Er…the Doctor's been shot?"

He waved my concerns off. "Yes, but he's alright, not even enough damage to set off a regeneration. I think Rassilon wanted him alive, though I'm not sure why. Anyway." He spun away from me and started to walk the length of the room. He brought up his arms and suddenly more things were appearing, seemingly pulled from the air. They were hazy at first, less real. But when I blinked there was a silver helmet hanging from the ceiling, and a chair beneath it, looking a bit sinister with all the straps it appeared to have. "There we are then. All we need to do it get Rassilon into this room."

"That's it? You just need him in here and…you can help the Professor?" I tried not to sound too hopeful. I suspected whatever miserable son of a bitch gods were watching over me were likely to pounce on any kind of displayed optimism and tear it to pieces like a pack of wild dogs. And then urinate on it, purposefully.

"Most likely." The Doctor smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

"That's not as reassuring as you think." I glared at him. "So how do I get him in here?"

"Well I don't know." He frowned at me. "I'm just a voice interface!"

"And I'm an inferior minded human!" I could feel myself starting to panic. This whole plan hinged on me being able to get Rassilon into this room, where, in my mind, rainbows would come out and everything would suddenly be perfect.

If my reality check was trying to suggest otherwise, it could just shut the hell up.

But I had to make this happen. If I didn't, Koschei died. It would be my fault. Completely.

"Well, I don't know. He was in _your_ head. I'm sure you've got some rapport with him now?" The Doctor said hopefully. "It's been my experience that everyone wants _something_." What did I know about Rassilon? He was crazy-go-nuts? And pretty evil? So…nothing then? Yeah. I felt like that summed it up. The Doctor saw the terribly blank look I was giving him and sighed. "If I know anything about time lords, I know they're lonely."

"Lonely?" The word didn't compute. Or not in any useful way anyway. Besides, didn't Rassilon have Koschei to keep him company now? You know, since he stole his body? I'm sure they had loads to talk about.

"Yes. You know, _lonely_." He raised his eyebrows like he was hinting at something. If there was something the Doctor and the TARDIS had in common, it was their inability to use English to communicate even the most basic thoughts.

"Just because you said it differently doesn't mean I have any idea-" But then I did. Lonely. Time lords were lonely, sure. But he had said _lonely_, like he was an adult trying to speak in code. My nose crinkled up in disgust. "I'm not going to _seduce _that psychopath so he'll follow me!" I was livid that he would have even suggested it. Also, I was probably a flaming pink color.

The Doctor just shrugged. "It was a long shot anyway, I doubt your 'womanly wiles' are capable of it. Oh well, opening the airlock works too." Suddenly there was a wall filled with controls and he was spinning dials like a man intent on sucking the atmosphere out of a spaceship.

"Wait! Just wait!" I yelled, running over to grab his arm to stop him. He gave me a dismissive look, but he stopped what he was doing. Was that really the only option? I was going to flirt my way out of trouble? Sure, wasn't that what all women do?

_Most women are trying to get out of a speeding ticket, not entrap an alien mass murderer._ My inner critic reminded me. 'Shut your gob' I responded.

No. It wasn't the _only_ option. If I could sneak up on him, overpower him, and then maybe drag him back here, without him waking up again; well, that could work too.

I didn't even need negative Nancy to chime in on that one. That was a failed plan if I'd ever heard one.

"Fine." I had to try, didn't I? What's the worst that could happen? Oh, yeah, _everyone dies_.

"Excellent. Knew you had it in you." The Doctor smiled. "I can only give you five minutes, so you best work quickly."

"What happens in five minutes?" I frowned, I was good, that's what I told myself anyway. But was I _five minutes_ good?

"Well, the effects of your radiation will fade after you've left the room, and I'll cease to exist. If I'm not here, there's no way to stop Rassilon permanently, and if you fail, we need a plan B. So I'll open the airlock before I defragment again."

"So I've got to get him back here by then or we'll both be sucked out into space?"

"Basically." The Doctor said with a mad grin. And they said people didn't look like their pets. Or ships like their…owners. Jesus Christ I _hoped_ I was five minutes good.

"Let's do this."


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: Hey all! You should come check out the fic I'm working on with Sarbrook, because it's really awesome! We're updating Monday's and Friday's...you know, until we screw up and our schedule goes to hell. Still. Check it! fanfiction dot net / s/8159937/1/The_Hollow_Man (Sans the spaces. Which I forgot the first time I put this chapter up.)  
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**And always, thanks for reading!**

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><p>"<em>But I want something good to die for, to make it beautiful to live."<em>

He could see exactly what Rassilon was doing, he wasn't even trying to disguise it. But then, he expected that Rassilon _wanted_ him to know, wanted him to recognize his own calculations being mutilated into something new and obscene. Without an audience to admire his plans, it wasn't worth it.

That had been something he had only been able to understand from the outside. The fact that 'outside', was actually a mental prison within his own body might have made him laugh if it wasn't such a grim reality. For now, though, it was tolerable. He didn't have any misgivings about it lasting. The only reason he had been spared was because Rassilon had lost the Doctor.

In addition to wanting an audience, he _needed_ to punish someone. He had wanted that someone to be the Doctor, the man who had so valiantly protected the earth and the humans who lived on it, time and time again.

Rassilon had wanted to make him watch while they all burned.

But now the Doctor was gone, and though he wouldn't admit it, Rassilon was furious about it. The Professor could sympathize, how often had his own plans gone awry because of the Doctor? But Rassilon was a fool if he thought he would care when he destroyed the earth. After all, he had spent years trying to conquer the world himself. Perhaps with his own madness receded, he was less ambivalent as to the fate of the human race, but he certainly wasn't going to shed any tears as Rassilon tore it from the sky.

There was only one human he had any concern for, but he did his best to keep her from his thoughts.

There were cracks in the prison, cracks that Rassilon could use to see in, when it suited him. But the Professor could use them to see out as well, and sometimes, influence his body. He had used that to his advantage when Fitz had suddenly reappeared. There had been no doubt in his mind that Rassilon would make her suffer, and ultimately, die.

So he had fought back, a quick burst of strength had caught Rassilon by surprised, and he had succeeded in taking control. It had taken every ounce of his being, but it had been worth it. He had bought her those precious minutes to escape. And, what was more important, was that he had manipulated the memory that had seen her. Erasing the knowledge that she was on the ship with them from Rassilon's mind.

There was some hope in that, knowing that she might stay safe. If she was smart, she'd find a deep hole to hide in, and she wouldn't come out again until she knew Rassilon was dead and buried. There were all kinds of tricky little corners like that on the TARDIS, and while he had never been much a fan of a sentient ship, he felt confident that it would keep her safe. The Doctor was bound to stop Rassilon, sooner or later, he had a knack for ruining even the most diabolical of plans. If there was anything he could count on, it was that pig headed man and his stubborn refusal to give up. Because he was an idiot.

It was a desperate hope, but it was all he had. It would have to be enough.

"So what's the plan then?" The voice startled them both, Rassilon was whipping around, a scowl set firmly in his features and the laser screwdriver ready to fire. The Professor couldn't have stopped him even if he wanted to, he had used the last of his strength to give Fitz a chance to hide.

And she had _wasted_ it.

Furious as he was, he still tried. If there was anything that could give him strength, it was the thought of strangling the stupid out of her useless form. But he was weak, and Rassilon was prepared for him this time. He was thrown back into his cage, but it was different. Now there were the drums for company.

_One, two, three, four._

_One, two, three, four._

It pulsed in his blood and he threw his hands over his ears and screamed. Those drums had hunted him his whole life. He thought he had escaped, he thought he could be free of them. And now he would be trapped with them forever, watching through his own eyes as Rassilon lived his life. If he had ever doubted there was a Hell, he didn't now. He was in it. For all eternity.

"Ah, yes. The _human_." Rassilon said with some disdain. "Your friends have gone and left you behind?" His face pulled in a sneer, already thinking of the many ways which he could torture her. It had been so long since he had toyed with a human.

"I imagine if they were my friends, they wouldn't have left me behind." She rolled her eyes and stepped forward to look at the screen Rassilon had been hunched over. She was close enough that she brushed against Rassilon's shoulder. Willfully ignoring, or just plain ignorant of the weapon in his hand, he couldn't tell.

There was something different about her, even in the haze of drums he tried to focus on Fitz. There was some strength to be had from seeing her again. She wasn't wearing her glasses, which would explain why she was squinting so hard at the screen. She looked, awake, alive. Refreshed.

And she was wearing a _dress_.

He was dismayed to find that Rassilon was making similar observations, and his mind was headed in a darker direction he was not pleased about. Fitz leaned her head back and ran her fingers across the back of her neck, massaging herself and letting out a slow sigh.

"Boy, I tell ya. Nearly dying really takes it out of a girl." She looked up at Rassilon with a grin. "So, like I said. What are we up to?" her fingers absently fiddled with the collar of her dress that scooped low across her chest. It had the effect of catching Rassilon's attention, at least enough so that he wasn't thinking about immediately killing her any longer.

What the _hell_ did she think she was doing?

"We?" Rassilon's voice was firm, but he returned the screwdriver to his pocket. "I'm afraid that I must warn you, I am _not_ your boyfriend any longer." He sneered at her, eager to see the realization in her eyes that she was in serious danger. He lived for that look, the rush that it gave him, the power.

Instead, she snorted. Fitz was laughing at the man, who, even now, was thinking of what her neck would look like twisted in rope. If the Professor was still physically capable of it, he would have had a stroke.

"I know _that_." She said, running her hands through her hair so it fell back from her bare shoulders. "I don't think we've ever been properly introduced. Rassilon, I take it?" She offered out his hand, a sly grin spreading across her face.

Rassilon was at a loss. He was unable to decide if she was brave, or just incredibly stupid. Either way, he concluded she was harmless. After all, she was only a _human_. In fact, he was starting to suspect she might be able to offer him some real amusement. He shook her hand and returned a smile.

"It's nice to finally meet. And, for the record, he is _not_ my boyfriend." She said as she released his hand, leaning her hip against the center console.

"Perhaps you can lie to me about some things, but I have been in your mind these past weeks, and I have been privilege to certain…situations you have shared with the Master."

He felt himself shiver once, hearing that old name again. He didn't want to admit that it gave him such a thrill to hear it spoken, especially by Rassilon himself, but he would be lying if he said it had no effect whatsoever. Still, it only served as a reminder, along with the drums, of what a broken thing he really was.

"Quite the closet pervert, aren't you?" Fitz asked with a raised eyebrow. She was teasing the lord president of the time lords. _Teasing_ him.

"Believe me, it was not my intention." Rassilon scowled at her, but there was little bite in his tone.

"Well, it doesn't matter. I wasn't lying. We _were_ involved. But after he stabbed me in the back like the bastard he is, well. I don't think there's much of a future there. I think I can safely say it's been mutually ended at this point."

Stabbed her in the back? He had _saved_ her. And now she was throwing all his effort back in his face. As though living in Hell wasn't enough, now he was going to watch her die. All because she was a stupid vain little girl who had gotten her feelings hurt. Was she doing this now, because she knew he would be watching? Did she want to call him a bastard to his face? If Rassilon wasn't going to kill her, he would certainly going to be next in line.

And then he saw it, her hand on Rassilon's. His stomach churned furiously, he had hardly been gone for half of an hour and already she was-

But his thoughts quieted, remembering the last time he had felt this kind of simmering rage. Jack. She had teased and flirted with Jack in the same way.

Oh she was a bloody _idiot_.

This wasn't charming her way to a trip off the TARDIS with a man who would flirt with a paper bag. This was a madman she was trying to charm. And he was going to _kill_ her.

He had to warn her, somehow he had to make her understand. She hadn't taken the threat seriously before, maybe she thought if Rassilon lowered his guard he would emerge. But he couldn't win. The Professor had let him in, it was the only way to remove him without harming Fitz, and in doing so, he had opened every barrier. There was no going back from that. He pounded and screamed at the wall of noise that held him trapped in his own mind.

Rassilon started to laugh, but his amusement wasn't directed at Fitz. Instead, he was laughing at the Professor's struggles. That's when he finally understood. It didn't matter how hard he fought, Rassilon was too strong. Fitz was on her own.

"I'm afraid he disagrees." Rassilon said when he finally regained his composure. The drums grew louder and it was a struggle just to exist in this tiny space. This was what it would always be like, Rassilon closing the walls of his prison tighter and tighter, toying with him, abusing him. Until finally, all traces of his sanity would be gone.

Fitz hadn't believed him when he had said how dangerous Rassilon was. Now she was going to find out.

"Yeah, well. I guess you can tell him I've moved on to bigger and better things." She was closer again, her hand still gently resting on Rassilon's. She caught his eye and smiled dangerously.

"Oh?" His gaze flickered to her hand, uncertain. "It didn't seem that way when you chose to protect him, and you tried to _kill_ me." His voice was harsh, he had not forgotten that Fitz had tried to thwart his efforts. And yet, he did not remove her hand. Never mind what was Fitz doing, what the hell was Rassilon doing?

"I cared about him." She looked away, hurt clouding her features. "I thought he cared about me." Her voice fell just above a whisper. "I was wrong."

The words echoed louder than the drums for a moment, sinking in fully. How could she believe that? He had done it _for_ her. And yet she sounded so broken, so wronged. That wasn't what happened, that wasn't how she was supposed to remember it. He struggled again, he had to tell her. There was still time.

"Then he was a fool." Rassilon brought his other hand up under her chin and drew her gaze back to his own. Rassilon was not just a man who could toy with people physically, inflicting torture and pain, he could also manipulate them emotionally. It was a pastime he had rather enjoyed, and it had been so long since he had the opportunity to truly experience both together. Rassilon would hurt them both, he would drive the knife in where it would hurt the most.

"Yeah. I was always just along for the ride anyway, wasn't I?" She mustered a smile. "I thought you could use some company, since it looks like you've scared everyone else off."

"Yes, well." He smirked. "I have that effect on people."

"I hear it's very common among the time lords." Fitz said with a bitter smile.

"Indeed." He smiled genuinely this time. He looked over the scanner screen to ensure that the computer was still processing the numbers, it could be some time before any usable data was available. "Perhaps I have some time, maybe we can discuss my shortcomings as a species."

"You don't strike me as much of a talker." She laughed. She knew exactly what she was doing as she bit her lip, smiling coyly at the man who would decimate her species and then incinerate their grave.

"Did you have something else in mind?"

"Listen, I'm not an idiot." She spoke as if she were scolding a child. Hardly a good idea if she planned to live long. "Or at least, not as much of an idiot as you think. I know I rate about as important as an ant to you. Maybe even a little less. I know I only get to live as long as I make myself useful. So," She said, closing the distance between the two of them and placing her hands on his shoulders. "Here I am. Making myself useful."

Rassilon gave out a short bark of laughter, her boldness catching him by surprise.

"I'm beginning to think our mutual friend didn't fully understand what he was missing."

"You have no idea." Fitz said with a grin, her hands wrapped up behind Rassilon's head and pulled him down within her reach, grasping his lips in her own.

The Professor howled in his cell, full of fire and ice, and wanting desperately to kill the man who had taken his form.

_I think I'll rather enjoy hurting you this way. I wonder what else your little pet has in store_. Rassilon wanted him to know. It wasn't just the knowledge that he was going to kill her in the end, but that he was enjoying himself in the meantime. His mocking laughter echoed with the drums as they grew louder with Rassilon's own heartbeats. The Professor clutched at his head moaning, trying to shut his eyes against the sensations that rolled through him and his body. Hating everything and everyone.


	28. Chapter 28

"_Just don't leave, don't leave. I'm not living. I'm just killing time."_

I am…kind of feeling like a scumbag. It's getting harder and harder to keep the strained smile on my face. I'm still leading Rassilon down the hall, hopefully to the room where I plan to ruin his day. I'm sweating like crazy, like…I don't know. Some kind of mad sweat making machine. I've never actually seen a pig sweat, so it feels a little insincere to say I was sweating 'like a pig'. The point was, I felt like it was a lot. His hand was clamped tight in my own and I was hoping he didn't notice how hard I was crushing it.

Did he feel how clammy my hand was? Did he hear every single 'um' or 'uh' or awkward pause that shot holes into my whole attempted seduction?

And I kissed him.

Ugh.

Just.

UGH.

Remind me to take a blender to my mouth, and some sandpaper. Maybe some soap for good measure. It was Koschei, at least, it _looked_ like Koschei. But it wasn't him. That was the part that was making me feel like something I had stepped in. I thought if I pretended it was him, it would help make me less nervous. Because, let's face it, I needed all the help I could get at this point.

But even that was too much of a stretch. His voice was different, his smile, even his eyes. It was all darker, sinister. It was god damn evil with a capital E. And underlined. A few times. It didn't matter that Rassilon was wearing a different mask, he was bad. And it just oozed from his pores.

I almost giggled when I saw the doors, that hysterical, insanity driven kind of giggling. Basically, the kind of giggling I wanted to prevent if I had any hope at all of not screwing this up. I was so close, all I had to do was to get him through those doors and…

Er.

What? What was the plan? Was the Doctor just going to smack him over the head? Was _I_ suppose to smack him over the head? Would that even work? Or was I going to have to go through with the whole…next step of seduction…? Oh hell no. End of the world or not, I was not letting this body snatching creeper put his hands on me any more than necessary. And _that_ was not going to be necessary.

"I thought we could go some place exciting." I said, flashing a grin as the door slid open. A strained grin. A grin that just _screamed_ 'shoot me with something because I'm totally plotting to mess your shit up'.

But apparently earth men and time lord men were similar in the fact that when they were focused on certain things…well, the logical, suspicious part their brain sort of shut down. But if my suspicious behavior wasn't setting him off, the very black walls of the room was probably going to have _some_ effect.

"Did you have any suggestions?" I asked, trying to play it off like I had a plan. Seriously, what the hell was the plan? Did I remember actually discussing it? Should I have been paying attention? I was the worst at execution, if it had been the _real_ Doctor, he would have _known _that. There should have been a power point or something. At least notes.

"I like the dark." He grinned, pulling me close while I tried not to cringe. Of _course_ he liked the dark. What kind of sinister villain _didn't_ like the dark.

"Sure, but, I mean, right here?" That was panic in my voice, total panic. He wasn't listening because he was kissing my throat, god I wish my skin would just peel off. I was certain the next segment of the plan was going to happen now.

Okay. Now.

Maybe now? Please?

He pulled back and grinned down at me, his hand tangled in my hair, tighter until it was painful. And then he was slumped over me, pulling me to the ground.

Panic! This is me hitting the panic button! And falling, because he's heavy.

"Okay I'm sorry I can't do this! It was all a trick! Sorry! I'd rather you didn't kill me though." That's what I meant to say, it all came out a little more rushed and squeaky. Way to keep everything under wraps, you master operative.

And then he was just laying there. Unmoving.

Was he letting it sink it? Was he going to lay there until I slowly suffocated?

"Hello!" The Doctor's head popped up over Rassilon's shoulder. "Not very tight lipped, are you?" He had a black leather…thumper thing…one of those things I'd seen in movies that's used to knock people out. I had no idea what the hell it was called. But apparently, it was effective.

"A little help here?" Rassilon's dead weight was too much against my pathetically weak arms. Did I mention I had just nearly died? Yeah, that's what it was. It had nothing to do with my complete lack of arm strength, due to, you know, not lifting stuff. Ever.

No. It was the near death thing.

The Doctor helped lift his shoulders enough so I could squirm out from under him.

"Glad to see you again, was just about to open the air lock." The Doctor smiled as if that wouldn't really have bothered him at all. You know, just two people, sucked into space, causing their blood to boil in their veins. No biggie.

""I'm so thrilled you decided against it." I grumbled, pushing myself up off the floor. "So what now?"

"Now it's simple. We just need to bring him to the chameleon arch, set the appropriate brain wave monitors to beta rays. Power it up using the ships fusion engines. Then hopefully, the arch will be able to separate the consciousness from the physical body. Of course, ideally, it will be the _correct_ consciousness. Or not just pieces of both of them. Then all we need to do is shut down the machine before it pulls the Professor out as well. Or kills them. Also," He said with a frown. "We should make sure it doesn't overheat and kill us all. I think there's a setting for that…"

Simple was not the word I would have used.

Simple wasn't even in the same broad category of the word I would have used. It was an adjective. That was about as similar as it was going to get.

Impossible sounded more accurate.

"Oh, and there's this." He held out a pocket watch. "It was just small enough that I could focus most of the excess radiation energy to stabilize it. So even outside the room, this will continue to exist. Which is good. Because if it doesn't, well, Rassilon will get out again. And we don't want that. That would be very bad."

"Yes." I agreed. I wasn't going to get bogged down with the details. Rassilon in the chair. That was the first step. We both took an arm and started to drag him across the room where it was waiting. Why the Doctor hadn't materialized it a little closer to the door, I wasn't sure.

I hadn't realized there would be so many straps involved. The Doctor went about tightening them all down while I stared in horror at what looked like it was some kind of electric chair.

It looked like we were about to stage some kind of execution. That wasn't foreboding at all. No. I was feeling totally confident now.

He lowered the metal helmet and pressed the watch into the front of it where it locked tightly. There were more dials and buttons that he periodically flicked on and off, causing the machine to blip and hum.

"Right then. Now, we just need to wake him up."

"What?" That was a terrible idea. A _really_ terrible idea. Suddenly all those sinister straps holding him down didn't seem like enough. Hell, all the straps in the world wouldn't have been enough. "No!"

"Okay, don't panic. There _is_ a point to all this." Good, he was picking up on my panicking. That was good. Because there was a lot of it. "Right now, well. Before right now, Rassilon was the dominant consciousness. So if we turn it on while he's unconscious, it'll pull the Professor out. And leave us with the same problem as before."

"That would have been good to know!" What if he had hit him too hard? What if we _couldn't_ wake him up? Why had I listened to the Doctor? No, that was wrong. Why had I listened to the _machine_ that was _pretending _to be the Doctor? Where was the sense in that? No where. The sense was No. Where.

Why am I always such an idiot?

"It doesn't really matter, does it? We needed to knock him out to stop Rassilon from being a threat, and we need the Professor to come back, because for the process to work, it needs to read a very specific amount of brain activity from one or the other, otherwise…" The Doctor trailed off, an unpleasant frown curling at his lips.

"Otherwise _what_?" Man, I was _really_ looking forward to that couch. And cheetos. I was going to eat cheetos till I freaking died. My blood would be god damn orange when they found me. And then I could say 'hi' to Goldine in fishy heaven. It would be epic.

"Otherwise, it might pull a bit from the both of them. Which would leave…well, whatever is left…a bit of a mess. So," he clapped his hands together, interrupting my request for him to define 'bit of a mess' and plastering a smile on his face. "We better get it right the first time."

"Do we get a second time?" That might be sort of hopeful.

"Well. No." He shrugged.

"Then what the hell do we do?" My words were crisp and deliberate. The Doctor was pretty tall, but I was almost certain I could still jump the distance I needed to throttle him pretty well. Except it wasn't the Doctor, it was the voice interface. Dammit.

Could I throttle a voice interface?

I had slapped one. That had actually been pretty satisfying. Maybe…

"Oy!" He stepped back, apparently onto my whole violent mood. "No need to get snippy with me. I'm not the one who got us into this mess."

Right. That would be me. _I_ had gotten us into this mess. Jeez, when the voice interface wanted to kick you where it hurt, well…it _hurt_. I filed that under something to be miserable about later, you know, when I was luxuriating on my couch.

"Okay, I'm sorry," I let out a shaky sigh. Might as well fail first before I totally lose my shit. "Do you have any suggestions on what to do?" I was trying to keep my voice even, less hostile. Though, I got the feeling I wasn't entirely successful. Boo-hoo. Voice interface Doctor was just going to have to put up with my crabby ass for now. We all have problems.

"Well, theoretically…" he trailed off, looking guilty. Urge to kill rising… "You should be able to communicate with him now. It's sort of in the same vein as humans trying to absorb information while they're sleeping. Hypnotic suggestion, I believe."

"Does that actually work?" All those years in French class, retaining absolutely nothing. Why didn't anyone tell me there was a way to cheat? The Doctor laughed, but his grin quickly faded as I glared him down.

"Well, no," he cleared his throat, regaining his composure. "But that's because they're unconscious."

Just two quick steps. That's all I needed and my hands would be around his throat. Oddly enough, I wasn't sure I had the strength to strangle him, but I'd give it a good go.

"But," he raised his hands pleadingly. "The _Professor _might be aware. Since he's technically separated apart from the body consciousness. So…the odds are…well. It _might_ work."

It might work. You know. _Maybe_. Which was only a stones throw away from 'it won't really work at all, go ahead and start screaming'. I guess it _might_ work marginally better than shooting him out of a spaceship and leaving him to die, but, only by a little.

"Okay," I said, focusing on taking small calming breaths. It wasn't really helping. "If it doesn't work, I'm going to…" It dawned on me pretty quickly that I didn't have any particular threat in mind. What? Burst into tears? Cry for my mommy? Kick the outside of the box we were traveling in? The Doctor looked just as skeptical as I was feeling. "Well, I don't know what scares a voice interface, but you can bet your ass I'm going to find out." I jabbed my finger in his chest sternly. He opened his mouth to argue but I cut him off. "Before that though, thank you." I had watched enough sci fi movies to know that you don't really want to piss off the machines. They'll turn on you. Also, I had to admit, I would have been totally screwed without him. Her. It. In fact, I probably would still be sitting in this room, crying like a baby. He looked startled for a moment.

"You're welcome," a smile curled up the corner of his lips. "Best get on with it."

"Here goes." What was 'going' exactly, I wasn't really sure. I marched over to where Rassilon was sitting, propped up, but definitely still unconscious. That was important, because I wasn't willingly going to get within a football field of him while he was alert again. I had burned through all of my courage for the day. That was it, finito. Anything else went wrong, I was taking the low road and shrieking like a ninny. I bet I was really good at that.

I knelt next to the chair, feeling somewhat self conscious about trying to talk to an unconscious lump when I had an audience. Oh well, the longer I dwaddled here, the longer I had to wait for my damned couch.

"Koschei?" I spared a glace over my shoulder and the Doctor gave an encouraging nod. "I don't know if you can hear me. I hope you can. The Doc- Er. The _TARDIS_ said you might be able to. That's complicated, so don't ask about it…even though you can't." I grabbed his hand. "God I feel like an ass. Especially if you can't hear me. Well, I guess not if you _can't_ hear, because-"

This was spiraling in a tragic circle of awkwardness.

"Anyway. We're going to try and wake you up. We've got a plan to…well. Yeah, I don't understand the plan. That's also complicated. But…whatever it is, _you_ need to wake up in control. Because if you're not, well, big surprise, the whole plan goes to shit. So you better focus on some real happy god damn thoughts. Otherwise you're going to end up in a pocket watch. Don't ask me to explain that either. Regardless. If you screw this up for us, I'm going to make damn sure that the rest of your life as a watch is going to be miserable. I don't have a plan for _that_ yet, but it probably involves dropping you in the ocean. So. You know, try hard." It was probably my least encouraging speech I had ever given. _"Please_." Even the unconscious time lord had to have heard the desperation in my voice.

"That should be enough, don't want Rassilon waking up on his own." A waft of ammonia struck my nose before I realized the Doctor was right behind me, shoving a small cannister into our captive's face.

"Ugh, what is that?" My eyes started to water and my nose was burning like I had snorted some hot sauce flavored Pixy Stix.

"Smelling salts." The Doctor grinned.

"Where did you get smelling salts?"

"Where did I get anything in here?" He frowned at me like I was an idiot. Which was a pretty fair estimation. Maybe it _had_ been a stupid question.

"Right, radiation."

"Fitz…" I realized with some alarm that the hand I was holding was suddenly gripping mine tighter and tighter. Painfully so. That probably wasn't a good sign. "I'm going to make you _so_ sorry." He growled. Okay, that was probably _also_ not a good sign. I turned around slowly and faced him, plastering a smile on my face.

"You just slipped and fell," I swallowed, it was a pretty terrible excuse but I wasn't having a lot of coherent thoughts crouching this close to a murderous lunatic. He glowered at me, strain marking his features.

"When I tell you to run, you _listen_." There was something decidedly less sinister about the way he was glaring. Still angry, but in a way I recognized. "As soon as I get out of this, I'm going to put you in a cage and you're never going to get into trouble again. Ever."

"Koschei," I said, relieved, unable to help the pathetic little smile that crawled across my lips. He was here, _safe_. But that wasn't quite right, because he was shaking, badly. And it looked like he was in a lot of pain. "You're just lucky I listen to _any_ of the things you say."

"I don't think I remember that _ever_ happening." He muttered. "What the _hell _were you thinking?" Alright, so he was in pain, but he was still mad with me. So that made him, exponentially madder than he _seemed_. So…I was still glad for the straps.

"I was just trying to bag another time lord. I've got a whole collection going." If I could just keep being snide, I wouldn't have to focus on how Koschei looked like he was on the brink of death. A sheen of sweat broke out over his forehead and his jaw clenched and unclenched periodically. "What do you think idiot? I was trying to _save_ you."

"Well, _don't_ next time." He growled halfheartedly, whatever strength he was putting into fighting off Rassilon, it seemed to be fading.

"Likewise." I shot back.

"My, aren't you both…unpleasant." The Doctor popped up. "Are we going to do the thing?"

"Doctor?" Koschei frowned. "How-"

"No, not the Doctor. Very complicated. I believe I heard her explain it. Sort of. Anyway, try to keep up. Important thing to do." He turned to the controls next to the chair Koschei was strapped to and started to spin all sorts of colorful dials, and then returned to the helmet to do a similar bout of fiddling. I couldn't have replicated it if I tried. "Now," he said, turning his focus back to Koschei. "I have to warn you. This _is_ going to hurt. A bit." He thought about it a moment and then shrugged. "Well, more than a bit, really. It's rather excruciating."

"Share some of the Doctor's more annoying traits, do you?" Koschei muttered through clenched teeth.

"Yeah, you just sit there and be snide." I said in my least supportive voice.

"And try _not_ to think about how much it's going to hurt." The Doctor added, unhelpfully.

"Maybe it'd help if you _didn't_ talk." I glared at him.

"Right. Yes. Okay, on with it then. I'd step back if I were you." The Doctor looked sheepish as he pulled me away. Koschei made a real effort to release his death grip on my hand, only to reassert it on the armrests. Grinding his teeth together, he took a deep breath. And then he gave the Doctor a short nod. I hadn't realized he had been waiting for his okay.

"Good luck." The Doctor said before flipping a large red switch. The effect was immediate. The machine wasn't just humming now, it was crackling with life, and the helmet itself started to glow. But I wasn't thinking about that, because Koschei was screaming. Not the high pitched girly squeal that I would have made, but the guttural scream of immense pain. It was horrible. Really _really_ horrible.

I clamped my hands over my ears like a coward, but I never took my eyes off of Koschei. It didn't matter anyway, because I was pretty sure I was never going to forget that sound for as long as I lived. His head shot back and he continued to shake, and howl. It went on forever.

But then it stopped. Like a balloon, all the tension suddenly deflated out of his body and he slumped in the straps again.

"Koschei?" There was an edge of panic to my voice as I lowered my hands from my ears. Except it wasn't just an edge. It was a whole wall. And I was butting my head into it over and over again. "Koschei!" I shouted as I returned to his side. He wasn't moving, or breathing. That was bad. I started to shake him but he just flopped uselessly in his restraints. This was really _really_ bad. My fingers felt numb as I unstrapped him, no longer giving a damn if Rassilon reared his ugly head. He looked so weak in that chair, so diminished. My hands shook as I pulled him out of that stupid machine. Everything was loads harder to see, when had my vision gone blurry? Oh, right, that would be those fat useless tears that were dribbling down my face. I sniffed importantly and brushed away at them, pretending my lower lip wasn't wobbling like a pouting toddler.

When I released the strap around his chest, he slid to the floor, slower with me grabbing at his shoulders, but his body still hit the ground with a heavy thump. He laid there, completely still. Now would be a good time to turn into that hysterical bundle of insanity. I clutched at his shirt and shook him. Denial was an incredibly powerful drug.

"Koschei, time to get up you stupid ass. I know you think you're teaching me a lesson about listening, you smug bastard. But if you don't get up right now I'm going to make you regret ever finding me in the street. Koschei!" I shook his shoulders again. "Do you hear me? Serious regrets! I'm not joking!" I was rambling, and he was starting to glow yellow.

Wait.

Why the fuck was he glowing?

"What-?" I couldn't form a thought more coherent than that.

"You should step away from him." The Doctor said in a worried tone. A worried and _defeated_ tone. No. That couldn't be, defeat implied that we had _lost_. It implied that Koschei wasn't going to start breathing again. I wasn't ready for that. That was _not_ happening. Seriously. Absolutely not.

Lalalalalalalala. I can't hear you.

"Please," there was that desperate pathetic pleading again. God, I was such a little ninny. "Please don't leave."

"No, seriously." The Doctor was gripping my arm now, pulling me away. I struggled against him but I felt so drained, so tired of fighting. Besides, what was the freaking point? You just _lose_. On top of that, seriously, what the hell was he turning all golden for? "Not a lot of time to explain. Bit of a thing that's got to happen."

I swatted at his arms, but he was entirely too crafty and I lost my grip on Koschei as he started to pull me across the slick floor.

"But we have to help him!" I shouted, maybe if I could get loud enough he would listen. No. No _maybe's_. He was _going_ to listen if I had anything to say about it.

"It's alright." The Doctor insisted. "Well, it's not alright in the strictest sense, but he'll be okay. Sort of." None of the things coming out of his mouth were reassuring. The light was growing so bright I had to shield my eyes with my hand. "It's a time lord thing. Just give it a moment." But now when I tried to look back, the light was so intense that even my hand didn't block it out. It was like some kind of explosion that turned into an instant migraine. I thought, with the time lord problem solved, I'd be done with those.

"See? Everything is fine." The Doctor said. I realized he had let me go and opened my eyes again. The light had gone, though there were still spots dancing in my vision. Koschei was still slumped where I had left him…except…

I blinked twice, wondering if maybe the light had done something funny to my eyes.

"Who the hell is that?" I blurted out when the figure laying there didn't change. I crossed the room again, staring down at him. He was…he was _taller_. And his hair was darker, longer. Curly.

No. That wasn't really right. He wasn't just changed, he was completely different. This was a totally different person laying on the floor where I had left Koschei. There was some kind of magic trapdoor. That was what made the most sense. Sort of.

No. Not really at all.

"Seriously, who is this?"

"It's the Professor." The Doctor said, but he frowned. "I don't suppose any of them told you about regeneration?"

"I…no." How could it be the Professor? I knelt down next to him, too exhausted to stand. This was definitely not him. This was a totally different man. I did notice, however, that this man was breathing. And I was sort of staring at him.

His face was a mix of sharp angles and soft edges. It was long and a pale milky color that I expected from someone who had spent their life in a basement. His hair was a brown curly mess, long enough that the bangs had fallen across his brow. It couldn't be him. It wasn't.

Why was I still arguing? Who was I arguing with? Of course it wasn't him, _I_ knew that. For some reason, I just needed to keep reminding myself. Over and over again. Because some voice in my head was questioning it. But it wasn't. This was a stranger.

I told myself that a few more times as I brushed the hair back from his face and cradled his cheek.

No. Seriously. Stop. Because it _can't_ be.

_Then where did he go?_

"Yeah. The Doctor does that, leaves it till the last minute. It's rather unfortunate to see that it's habit forming among the time lords."

"What happened? What is this?" I turned back to face the Doctor, still holding the man who may or may not be Koschei. I didn't have any idea which was I was leaning at this point.

"Well, time lords can live for a very long time. One of the ways they do that is by regenerating." The Doctor was picking up on my ignorance pretty quickly. Which was great, because I didn't really feel like explaining it. "Blimey, you _are_ new, aren't you? Anyway, they're fairy hearty as a species. But, not invincible. They've got a trick, just before they die. They sort of, rebirth themselves. New form, but same memories. The energy heals whatever mortal wounds they've suffered. That's why he doesn't look the same."

That was mush. Noodles and mush that he's trying to feed into my brain. Too bad for him my brain was roughly the same consistency. A big puddle of senseless incomprehension.

"That doesn't make any sen-" My words died in my throat as a hand snatched at mine and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

"I'm afraid I have to ask what exactly it is you think you're doing?" A low voice rumbled from behind me. It was coming from the stranger on the floor. I looked back to see blue green eyes glaring up at me, his long fingers still gripping my wrist tightly.

"Koschei? Are you alright…?" This was a complete stranger, there was nothing familiar about him. _At all_. And I was already calling calling him-

"How did you know my name?" He scowled at me suspiciously.


	29. Chapter 29

"_For a minute there, I lost myself, I lost myself."_

He blinked once, trying to give his thoughts a moment to catch back up with him. He had been out cold, that much was apparent since he was now sprawled out on the hard floor. He was still waiting to remember exactly what had happened when he realized nothing was coming to him. Not only did he have no memory of what had knocked him out, he had no idea where he was, or how he had gotten there for that matter. That _was _a cause for concern. He cast his thoughts back, trying to remember the last thing he could. But he drew a blank. It wasn't that he had _no_ memory. As soon as the stranger had spoken his name, he had recognized it.

Even more was that he had been certain that there was no reason she should have _known_ the name. It was not common knowledge beyond those who had studied with him at the Academy before he had graduated.

Gallifrey, time lords, the war.

It was a relief to know that there was _some _information still floating around in his skull, but there was no sense to really be made from it. It was all fragmented into pieces, there was no thread stringing it together in any kind of proper order.

She couldn't have known his name because she was _human_. That was what had bothered him so much. That and she was being _entirely_ too familiar with him. He was still holding her wrist firmly away from where it had been resting against his face. He confirmed his suspicion of her species with her pulse, it was rapid, but there was only one heart powering her circulatory system. He inspected her more carefully now, her hair was pure white, something he had initially attributed to her age, but now he realized she was young, much too young for white hair. Her gray eyes were puffy and red, as though she had recently been upset. She still hadn't answered him, instead she was gawking down at him like he had sprouted horns and a tail.

"How do you know my name?" He repeated more slowly.

"_What_?"

This was why he could never understand the Doctor's affinity for humans, they were incredibly slow _and_ dull witted.

Ah, that was a memory, he scrabbled to get hold of it but his thoughts were interrupted by another voice.

"Yes, well. When I said 'alright' I may have been a _bit_ optimistic. Strictly speaking, he might be a tad…off." It came from behind the girl and he pushed himself up onto his elbows, finally releasing her. There was a tall and gangly looking man, dressed like an old professor. He stood several paces away and ran a hand through floppy brown hair, looking distressed. And _familiar_.

"Hopefully just mental. May be temporary. I suppose it's to do with the chameleon arch business. Or the regeneration. Possibly both? Rather unfortunate mix-"

"Doctor?" Somehow the rambling gibberish helped him put a name to the face. When had he seen him? He remembered the same man, grim faced, leaning over him, pressing his hand to his head, the ceasing of drums. But he could not remember the events leading to that occasion, and it started to slip beyond his grasp.

"Oh. Um. No. Not the Doctor…" He looked down at himself and frowned. "But you recognized me, that _is_ interesting. Anyway, not the Doctor. I'm the voice interface. Well, except I had a run in with this rooms psionic receptors, and a bit of unexpected xtonic radiation. It sort of-"

"Yes," He put up his hand wearily. "Gave the psionic waves physical form." It was reassuring to know that his thorough education had not vanished. Though the information wasn't anything he particularly needed at that moment. It did clarify that he was on a ship of Gallifreyan origins and he supposed that was useful to him.

"I understand that," he said with some disdain. "What I _don't_ understand is what I'm doing here. This is the Doctor's TARDIS, is it not? Why am I here? And who is _she_?" He pushed himself to his feet slowly, wanting to be sure his legs wouldn't just collapse underneath him. Physically, everything seemed to be in order. It was a bit loose and awkward, but all accounted for. A pair of arms, legs, ears, eyes. He brushed his hand over his face once and through his hair. The skin seemed to be smooth, so he had to have been relatively young.

"Well, this is Fitz. She's-"

"Human. Yes, I know." He interrupted the Doctor. No, the voice interface. He wasn't going to be bothered if it was just going to restate the obvious. "And she's rather unfortunately named." He muttered mostly to himself, massaging his temples. It felt as though an enormous pressure had just been released from his skull, a throbbing pain that had only just faded.

"And _she's_ standing right here." The girl finally piped up, when he glanced her way, she had a rather angry scowl contorting her features. "And it's short for Fitzgerald."

"Yes, well. You weren't all that responsive before." He said mildly. "Now that you've regained your ability to speak, _Fitzgerald_," he said the name carefully. "Perhaps you can explain to me how I came to be here?"

"You don't remember?" Dull. Dull _and_ stupid.

"No. _Obviously_." He shook his head with a disgusted sigh. "I'm sorry I bothered."

"It's not too late to jet him out into space, is it?" He realized she had turned her attention to the voice interface.

"Well," the voice interface frowned. "You did go through an awful lot of trouble to _avoid_ doing that. But," he shrugged. "He _is_ rather rude."

"You were going to put me out of the ship?" That had caught his attention. His eyes were on the girl again, now wondering if perhaps he should be concerned about what kind of threat she posed.

"It was a busy day and it's kind of a long story." She shrugged, but she didn't seem to have meant the comment earnestly. She looked exhausted.

"Would you care to explain?" His sharp tone only earned another glare from the girl. He sighed. "Please?" He did his best to sound patient, despite the fact that he was feeling quite the opposite. That softened her frown some, and though she looked like she might still ignore him, her shoulders finally sagged reluctantly.

"So you don't remember anything? Anything at _all_?" He shook his head in confirmation, though it wasn't explicitly true, it would be easier for her to just explain everything, and for him to connect the fragments he _could_ recall. "Well I guess there's this time lord, Rassilon, and he's sort of a jerk."

"He is the founder of my people, what do _you_ know of him?" He frowned at her, blaspheming the name of the original Lord President was not to be taken lighted, especially not by some _lesser_ species.

"I know he's a real piece of work." She said testily. "You said you didn't remember anything."

"I apologize for interrupting," he realized that she was more than happy to tell him nothing at all. "There are pieces that are familiar, but I'm afraid it would take longer to explain those than for you to just say your piece. Please, continue." He concluded she was probably one of the Doctor's pesky assistants. The Doctor was always exposing his little human pets to information that was vastly beyond their meager comprehension.

"Well, it sounds like he had a bit of a falling out, because from what I've heard, he went bad. Or crazy. Maybe both," she shrugged. "I'm still not clear on the details. But somehow he ended up, just…I don't know. A spirit. A ghost. Whatever, he didn't have a physical body. But he ended up sharing one with me. You showed up, said you could help with that. While we were…robbing Torchwood, the Doctor showed up. Um…lots of things happened. Lots of alien things. Anyway," she sighed. "Rassilon took control of you. Then we used the chameleon arch to extract him. And…here we are."

It certainly wasn't going to win any awards for being the best told story, or even be recognized as much of a story at all.

"Rassilon went mad?" He frowned, breaking it down into smaller pieces that he thought he could digest. "Who told you this?"

She gave him a mild look. "You did. And so did the Doctor."

"Oh." He blinked, perhaps the Doctor would have been an unreliable source, but he had to believe that if _he_ had confirmed it himself, even if he didn't remember doing it, then it was likely true. It was difficult to think of Rassilon as capable of destruction, and yet, something inside him trembled. Whether from recognition or the knowledge that Rassilon as a villain would be a very dangerous foe indeed, he didn't know. "So you were going to kill the both of us." The voice interface gave a short nod when he turned toward him, now he understood what she had meant by ejecting him from the ship. If Rassilon truly was a danger, and as one of the most powerful time lords to have existed, he didn't doubt it; then there would have been little else for the human to have done on her own. But they had chosen not to kill him. Something he was discovering he was grateful for.

"Then I believe I owe the both of you my thanks." He admitted grudgingly.

"Don't thank me," the voice interface said with a cheerful smirk. "I was ready to turn off the emergency life support."

"Yes, well," he sighed, and turned back to where the girl was still standing. "Thank you Fitzgerald." Perhaps he had underestimated the human. After all, somehow he had gotten involved with her situation in the first place. Why he wouldn't have delivered her to the Doctor, he didn't fully understand, but then it seemed there were many questions that he still needed answered. "I apologize if I've been short with you. This regeneration has been disorientating, to say the least."

"It's fine." She said, sparing him only a short glance. "We should get back to the Doctor and Donna. They're probably worried."

"Yes," the voice interface agreed. "That's an excellent suggestion. Should be easy enough to redirect us back." He returned to the set of controls that were against the wall and reversed the flight path, the room now echoed with the muted sounds of the ship taking off. "Now," the voice interface stopped at the chameleon arch, pulling a fob watch from the helmet. "You need to keep this with you. At all times."

If that was the watch that had been in the helmet when Rassilon had been torn from his mind, then it was both very powerful, and _very_ dangerous. And the voice interface had just handed it to the _human_. He hoped that he had vastly underestimated her, otherwise they were all going to be in a very bad way, probably very soon.

"I don't want _this_." She scowled at it, and then back at the voice interface.

"And I don't want to go, but we all have to do things we don't want, don't we?" The voice interface gave her a pitying look.

"Oh please- wait, _go_? What do you mean go? You can't just leave!" She glanced nervously in Koschei's direction, as though she were afraid of being left alone with him. Like the voice interface was somehow more preferable to his own company.

"Of course I can," he scoffed at her. "I'm just a program."

"But…what am I suppose to tell everyone? I have no idea what's going on."

"Don't be stupid." He patted her head. "Of course you do. Besides, it's not like I've got much of a choice. We need this watch to stabilize permanently, and in order to do that, we have to focus all of the radiation on it."

"So? Aren't I just a radiation factory now? You said it was in my marrow or something."

"Yes," He said patiently. "But so are the cells that turn into your blood. Can you remind me what happens if you lose too much blood?"

"But- you're telling me this room is _bleeding_ me to death?" She was a strange mix of rage and hysteria, her fists clenching tightly, as though tempted to strike the voice interface.

"No, that's not it at all. But if it helps you understand, yes. But don't worry, I'm about to shut it down. We'll just recycle what you've already produced and charge it back into the watch. That way our prison will stay a prison, and not a scattering of molecules."

"But-"

"Come now, you're a clever girl. Well, for a human. You'll be fine." He ruffled her hair playfully and stepped back. "Onward then, remember, keep it safe. Say hello to my thief. Oh, and," He frowned, his face turning grim. "Tell him…tell him they're already lost."

"Who?"

"The meanwhiles and the neverweres." He smiled sadly. "Goodbye."

"You can't just-" She started to protest, but it was too late. The voice interface had vanished, along with everything else in the room. All that remained were the plain gray walls. She stood there for a moment, staring into nothing. She looked quite a bit more sallow than she had when he first saw her, and now he realized that the room itself had been drawing on her. The program was shut down, but it would probably be best if he were to get her outside.

"Come on, I'm not entirely sure what effect this has had on your biology, but I imagine it would be best to find out once you're safely beyond the room." She blinked, as though just remembering he was standing there, and then she headed for the door. The fob watch was still clutched tightly in her hand, and it continued to exist as she crossed the barrier from the room into the hallway. He let himself breathe, reassured that that particular hurdle had been crossed.

The girl seemed content to keep her silence as she made her way through the ship, he followed closely behind. Normally, that would have been just fine with him, and yet he suspected that she had many of the answers he was currently seeking, so it irked him some that he should have to make an extra effort to pry them from her.

"Does everyone call me Koschei?"

"No." She answered him curtly, without glancing back.

"What _do_ people call me then?"

"The Professor." Again, her answer was short, and she seemed uninterested in responding further. The Professor. That _almost_ sounded familiar, but he could not remember choosing it.

"And why do _you_ call me Koschei?" He was actually _quite_ interested to know the answer to that.

"Because it's your name."

"Yes, I _know_ that." He was struggling to keep his temper under control. Why he was even bothering, he wasn't really sure. "But why don't you call me the Professor?"

She finally stopped and spared him a dark look over her shoulder as they climbed the stairs to the control room, "I don't want to talk about it." She turned around and started to climb again just as the ship started to shake more violently. The floor lurched sideways and she stumbled in her footing. Reflexively, he reached out and caught her hand. It surprised them both. Lost memory or not, he was not one to offer a helping hand, that much he knew. She looked at him, for a moment the anger had fled from her features, and then she jerked away like she had been stung. Slamming her feet on the steps as she ascended to the glass floor.

"Is there a reason you're being so impertinent?" He asked with a growl. He was being perfectly reasonable considering his situation, while she was acting like she was a child. There was no reason for her to be so hostile when he had been the one who had just recently regenerated, losing an appalling amount of information in the process.

"_Impertinent_?" She rounded on him, fury glowing in her gray eyes. "He was my friend, and now he's _dead_. I don't. Want to. Talk. About. It."

"We were _friends_?" His own annoyance was briefly replaced by the astonishment that he would be friends with a _human_. He wasn't sure this day could get any stranger.

"No, _we_ weren't," she gestured to them both. "Because _you're_ not him."

"I assure you, I _am_. Perhaps you just don't _understand_-" He wasn't about to be _lectured_ about who he was. It was one of the few things he had any certainty about, but before he could continue, she cut him off.

"Regeneration? Yeah, I heard what you guys said. Still not buying it. You don't look the same, you don't act the same, and you don't have _any_ of his memories. Tell me how that's any different from dying. Please explain what part I'm not understanding." She was so angry she was shaking, and for the first time she was really looking at him, her eyes not darting away quickly as they had been. Now he could see she was on the verge of tears, something he hadn't expected.

"Perhaps…you should sit down." He suggested, feeling the tiniest tinge of regret for having upset her. The effects of the psychic vacillator must have been more draining than he had realized.

"I-" She looked like she was continue to fight, even if he wasn't going to participate. But then her eyes fell to the floor once again and she seemed to deflate, looking even frailer. "I'm sorry," she said in a small voice, pressing her fingers against the bridge of her nose. "I guess I believe you both. It's just…it's hard to-" She sucked in a sharp breath and swallowed heavily.

He watched her as she spun her back to him, trying to compose herself. He wasn't sure he had really believed her when she had said that they had been friends, but now he realized it wasn't just the exhaustion, it was obvious that she had _cared_ about what had happened to him in his last regeneration. There was a stirring of sympathy, deep in his chest.

"Who _are_ you?" He heard himself saying, and his hand was on her shoulder before he realized what he was doing.

"Don't," she whispered harshly, crossing to the opposite side of the console. He stared at his hands, confused. What had compelled him to do _that_?

He started to form an apology, but was saved the trouble when the ship lurched beneath his feet, dropping him painfully to the ground. His head cracked against the glass floor and lights danced in his eyes but he fought to stay conscious. He was disoriented enough, he wasn't going to slip away again and add to the confusion.

"Guess we're here." He heard her grumble. He started to push himself up, seeing her also sprawled on the floor. Before he had the chance to ask her if she were alright, he heard the doors to the TARDIS burst open. He couldn't quite see them from where he had landed, but shortly, a familiar figure came into view. It was the Doctor. He held his sonic screwdriver aloft, looking dangerous. Behind him followed a woman, cautiously inspecting the ship.

"Hey Donna," Fitzgerald said as she pushed herself to her elbows.

"Fitz!" She shoved past the Doctor, looking frantic. "Oh, I'm so sorry! Are you alright?" Even at this distance he recognized her as a time lord, and yet there was something peculiar about her, something that didn't quite fit.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He knew that was a lie, but decided it would be better not to interrupt.

The worry on Donna's face, as she helped Fitz to stand, slowly changed to confusion. "Are…are you wearing a dress?" Her tone had gone from alarmed to bewildered in less than a breath. "And _lipstick_?" Her eyebrows arched suspiciously.

"It's a long story." Fitz sighed. "Where the hell were you guys?"

"It's all my fault," Donna shook her head miserably. "He shot the Doctor and I…I panicked-"

"Where is he?" The Doctor's tone was low and menacing. This man was not the cheerful version the voice interface had mimicked, he was dangerous, and angry. The Professor felt a chill run down his spine as their eyes met. The Doctor's eye registered a mild surprise, but it passed quickly and he leveled the screwdriver at him threateningly as he approached.

"No, wait," Fitzgerald had stepped forward, placing her hands on the Doctor's arm. "It's alright. That's not Rassilon. See, I've got the watch." She held it up as proof. The Doctor watched the Professor as he stood up slowly but seemed to take the human at her word.

"Where did you get that?" The Doctor asked her curiously as he turned the screwdriver on the watch and scanned it, taking a moment to scrutinize the readings. He was apparently satisfied with what he saw and turned his full attention to her.

"The holodeck." She shrugged.

"And you've regenerated," he said, turning his gaze back to the Professor, his tone still had an edge of suspicion to it. "So you're the Professor?"

"It would seem that way, yes."

"Right." The Doctor nodded thoughtfully. "No, hang on." His face crumpled in confusion. "How did _you_ figure out how to use a chameleon arch to extract Rassilon? You weren't even _conscious_ when we came up with that plan."

"I didn't. You did. Well, the voice interface that looked like you did. I just sort of…helped." He wasn't sure if the Doctor had noticed, but he had. Fitzgerald's cheeks had turned a much darker shade of pink.

"Me? Voice interface? Oh," he said softly. "You were in the psychic interface vacillation chamber." He nodded, thoughtful. "Yes, that makes more sense now. Xtonic rays will do wonders for a sentient spaceship." He said the last part loudly as he gazed up at the tube that gently pulsed in the center of the console. "So how-"

"It's complicated." She put her hand up to silence him. "And I'm _not_ really in the mood." The Doctor opened and closed his mouth a few times, looking bewildered.

"What's wrong?" Donna asked, frowning sympathetically. "I mean, I know he _looks_ a bit…" She glanced up and met the Professor's eyes.

"It's not that," She answered quickly. "He doesn't remember."

"He doesn't remember what?" The Doctor asked.

"Anything." Her voice was bleak as she said it. Then they all turned to stare at him and the Professor shifted uncomfortably. They were, after all, strangers to him. And there was very little he could say in his defense.

"Oh." Donna said softly. "That _is _complicated."


	30. Chapter 30

_"Nothing is wrong. I just slip away and I am gone. Nothing is wrong."_

It was easily two of the most awkward days I had spent on the ship. Possibly, two of the most awkward days of my life. Well, no, there was that one Halloween where I…

Never mind. That's not what we're talking about.

We're talking about me being the only human on board, and the only one who seemed to think everything wasn't peachy.

I spent the first day hooked up to some kind of monitor and restricted to staying in one room. The Doctor did let me choose which room, so I got to hang out in the library, which was nice. Apparently the Doctor didn't want me 'overexerting' myself. He was worried I was going to explode, or collapse, or explodollapse. I have no idea. Really though, if I hadn't had a heart attack after everything I had gone through, I was probably immune to them. Still, I liked the library, so I humored him. When that was finished, I was given a clean bill of health. Other than that whole issue I had with radiation leaking into my blood stream. And something the Doctor referred to as 'that's strange'. But I was fine, he reassured me. And the radiation was harmless.

Well. No. It was incredibly deadly. In fact, an entire planet was devoid of life because of this particular brand of radiation.

But it was fine! Because my DNA had mutated in a way that made it safe for me. Or, I guess more accurately, Rassilon _made _my DNA mutate. Which, I guess means I had something to be grateful to him for.

Nah. Still an asshole.

But. I wasn't dying any more. I wasn't struggling to maintain control of my body. There were no aliens, blue or otherwise, trying to chase me down and stomp my head in. And as far as I could tell, the end of the universe was safely in the distance.

Everything was back to normal. Sort of.

It still sucked.

I was avoiding _him_ like the plague. I knew it, he knew it. Hell, everyone knew it. In fact, I was starting to suspect the TARDIS herself was deliberately changing the pathways of the ship so I'd be forced to run into him. Usually when I least expected it. He had come into the library on four separate occasions, each time looking confused.

I wasn't particularly amused by that.

It was almost tolerable when we were in a group, the Doctor, Donna, and the Professor. I could pretend it didn't bother me to look at him, because I didn't _have_ to. But running into him in the library, when I was all on my own? And I couldn't run away? So weird. So _not_ tolerable.

There really was something to be said about _non_ sentient ships.

I wasn't going to say it out loud, mind you. There was only one way that could end for me, and that was _badly_.

The Doctor had come in to remove the monitor, during one of the several awkward exchanges between me and the Professor. Seeing an opening, the Professor had bolted, while the Doctor had told me that he'd had amnesia loads of times. Sometimes even from regenerations. It was kind of weird to think of the Doctor with a different face.

It would all come back, he told me. Eventually. Maybe. Well, there was also the off chance that it had something to do with us tearing a consciousness out of the Professor's brain, which, the Doctor admitted, he _hadn't _had any personal experience with. So it could be…well, permanent. It was hard to say. Brain damage could be funny like that.

So basically, he had no idea. And every time he opened his mouth, I found myself less and less optimistic about the Professor's chances.

Donna had found me after the Doctor's failure to be even remotely reassuring. Instead of trying to convince me that the Professor would be back to normal soon, she suggested that maybe I should give him a chance as he was. After all, he was fairly easy on the eyes, and he wasn't nearly as obnoxious as the Master had been.

After fending off the rather stern glare I had given her, she decided, tactfully, to not broach the subject again.

Which was good, because she was really the only person on the ship I didn't mind running into.

Contrary to what Donna had said, and from the few occasions that I had seen the Professor, I thought he still retained some of his more…'charming' personality traits. He had a healthy disdain for the world at large, and when he wasn't outright saying it, I knew he was _thinking_ about how generally annoying humans were. It was easy to see from his furtive, yet scornful, glances in my direction.

I didn't know if I trusted Donna's taste in men anyway. Her version of 'easy on the eyes' was a bit of a stretch for me. Before, he had looked very human, maybe a bit crazy, but decidedly human. Square jaw, well built. Short neatly cropped blond hair-

Stop. We don't need a recap.

Now though? Now the Professor looked the part of 'alien' quite well. Which, I suppose, was more fitting. He also looked younger than he had before, which was…confusing. I could never meet his eyes for more than a second, they were too sharp, too scrutinizing, and too…too damn _blue_. They also seemed to look right through me, as though every thought in my head was just written out for him. I _really _didn't need Mister exotic cheekbones poking around in my brain.

Why couldn't he have been more like he was before? Where I had at least _some_ vague idea of what he was thinking about.

That was really the problem right there. I was always comparing him to someone that was _gone_. Dead really. At least, that was the way it seemed. Neither Donna or the Doctor could give me a satisfactory explanation that could make it otherwise. And I sure as hell wasn't going to ask the Professor.

Maybe it would have been different if he could have remembered, I don't know, _something_. But he didn't. I was just supposed to start all over again, chatting up a stranger. Who was alien. Even though I was still upset that I had lost someone. Who was technically him. And I had to just kind of pretend I _hadn't_.

You know, because we had won.

Yaaaaay.

It sure didn't feel like it.

What was even worse was that on top of being miserable and confused, I was also _furious_. Because you know what? This was all _his _damn fault. I _told_ him to leave Rassilon. I built a giant damn wall in my head specifically to _stop_ him. What did he do? He did it _anyway_. Because time lords know best, don't they? I'm just an idiot human, what I say or want doesn't matter. Doesn't even qualify as a real opinion.

So basically, I was having such a shitty time because _he_ was a pig-headed moron. Who could I shout at about that?

Oh, that's right. _No one_. Because tall, dark, and cheekbones didn't remember _any_ of that happening.

Instead, I'll just stew in my angry, sad, repressed, confused, and violent juices. I'm sure that's totally healthy.

Now I was in Cardiff, having just come back from a shouting match with the hotel manager. See, I had been under the impression that we had come back weeks later. I was feeling quite smug about the huge hotel bill the Professor was going to receive, I had even stolen everything out of the mini bar and signed for the excess charges. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

But then the woman at the desk had given me the bill, and it had been the same day we had checked in. That's when I had gotten angry. And irrational. And shouty. They finally took me up to one of the rooms and turned on the news to prove that it was the day they said it was.

All signs were pointing to the fact that I had gone backwards. It had been an uncomfortable apology and hasty retreat.

Because, apparently, the sentient spaceship we had traveling on, was also a time machine.

Something that not _one damn person _had decided to mention.

I was on my way to the cafe where we had agreed to meet at for lunch. It was something I _had_ been looking forward to. When I left, the Doctor was getting the lecture of his life from a rather enraged Amy Pond. I knew I liked her. Now they all seemed to be laughing, getting along. Even the Professor had something that could have been a smile on his normally sour face.

"Hey!" I shouted. Wow, that was loud, I'm not sure I meant to shout. I had their full attention, along with everyone else in the cafe. "Time machine?"

The Doctor frowned, and then slowly seemed to realize my eyes were crazy.

"Of course," Amy scoffed. "How did you think-"

"I didn't! Because no one told me! I just spent ten minutes telling some poor woman she was crazy when it was me. I was the crazy one."

"You didn't tell her?" Amy turned to the Doctor with a frown. "That was a bit _rude_."

"Well, I thought…" The Doctor's voice died as he looked at the Professor, who looked somewhat alarmed. "No. I guess not. Sorry about that."

"Sorry? You can't…you can't just travel through time!" Someone should have agreed with me. Because. It was _impossible_. They all just looked at me blankly. "Oh my god. You guys are all insane. I'm gonna go sit in that blue…whatever you call it. So when you're done, with this little, crazy lunch for crazies. I need a ride home."

And with that, I stormed out.

I probably could have handled that better.

I was feeling extra stupid as I was trying to repack my bag, because then I _did_ remember that one damn person _had_ mentioned the whole time traveling thing. Sort of. The vortex manipulator had traveled through time, and the Professor had said that the TARDIS was one giant functioning vortex manipulator.

Oops.

It had been busy that day. I got shot. At least the only person who remembered that I _should_ have known, had also conveniently lost their memory.

Hah.

All the things from the mini bar I had just shoved into a garbage bag, not my classiest move. Probably still classier than the scene I had just pulled in the cafe, but, eh. Not by much. As I was putting everything back into the bag, I was realizing that there were things that I hadn't taken from the hotel, _and _they had never been in my bag. Things like a pair of glasses with a deep blue frame, or a dark green pea coat. Things that I would have recognized if they had been mine.

It took me three or four times to realize that no matter how far I threw it from the bed, it continued to end up in my pile of things to pack as soon as I wasn't paying attention. This had TARDIS written all over it.

"Mutinous ungrateful little spaceshit…" I muttered under my breath as I stuffed a fifteen dollar can of peanuts in with my socks. Where there was an unfamiliar handkerchief tucked away. I chucked it over my shoulder disgustedly, I wasn't taking any weird souvenirs, no matter how determined they were.

"She's going to keep doing that, you know. You may as well keep them." I turned around and saw the Doctor approaching, plucking the handkerchief from where it had landed on his head. "Besides, you never know when they might come in handy." He held it out for me to take. I snatched it from his hand but put it on the bunk above me.

"Well, she needs to learn what 'no' means." There was that stupid coat again, this time, I stuffed it under the blanket on the bed, and then buried it under a couple of pillows for good measure.

"She has always been a bit difficult." The Doctor agreed with a smirk. "So, packing up for something?" He asked casually as he plopped himself down on the edge of the bed.

"Yeah. Home." I said curtly. I was having a battle of wills with a spaceship, which I was _losing_, and I had just made a pretty public ass of myself, twice. I think it was safe to say that my brain had passed its expiration date. It was time to call it a day. "Look, I'm sorry I had that little melt down."

"Naw, that's alright. We all have our moments. No one's voted you off yet, if that's what you're worried about."

I shook my head. "No. It really is time for me to be getting back." Time. Time lords. Okay, maybe I should have figured that out on my own. The Doctor nodded thoughtfully.

"Well, you should speak with him, before you go." Of course he was going to bring that up. Why wouldn't he? Nothing quite as uncomfortable as trying to explain to a time lord why you can't handle the whole 'regeneration' thing. It was similar to explaining to Stephen King why you didn't like books. He was never going to understand, somewhere along the line he was going to take it personally, and then he was going to think you were an idiot.

Of course, I loved books, so me and Steve-o were fine. But that was besides the point.

"I have talked to him." I shrugged. That was technically true. When he kept running into me in the library, I had tried to explain how to get back to the kitchens. Also, I had said 'Afternoon' and 'Later'. Those were words, which is what talking was, in its most basic form. I may have mumbled most of them, but still. It qualified.

"Yes, well. I guess I meant an _actual_ conversation. You know, about what happened. Not just 'hello, excuse me, I must be off'." I rolled my eyes at him like the spoiled brat I was. "Also, he's been asking about you. I'm sure he'd appreciate it if you cleared up a few of the questions he's had."

There it was, that little glimpse of hope. If he was asking about me, did that mean he remembered some of it? Was it coming back? He was holding it out in front of my nose like a carrot. Well, except I hated carrots. But if I was a rabbit, and for the sake of the metaphor, let's say I was, I was super pumped about that carrot.

"Asking because he's remembered something?" I asked lightly, like I didn't care at all. I wasn't going to get my hopes up, not at all. I was cool as a cucumber. That's why my heart was racing.

Stupid. Do _not_ get your hopes up, because it doesn't matter. He's a _stranger_. A stranger _alien_. It doesn't matter if he remembers, because you're going _home_. Away from the insanity. Remember? That's why you threw a fit? Or maybe it was just because I was so frustrated and had nowhere to vent those feelings so I had exploded on whatever opportunity presented itself…

Still. Life would be less crazy away from these people.

"Well…" His tone was really all I needed to hear. Whatever tiny little hope I had been trying to squash down was effectively squashed for me. "No. Not exactly." I was totally above that, I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of letting him know I cared. I was cool as celery, or any other chilled vegetable. Inner zen.

"He's just curious mostly. I imagine it rather confuses him how he came to be friends with a human. Much less _saved_ by one."

There went that inner peace as I felt my face crumple in despair. "I didn't save him." My voice sounded hollow and bitter. Probably because I was bitter.

"Fitz," the Doctor stood up and grabbed my shoulders, pulling me around to face him. I reluctantly looked up into his serious eyes, he always looked like a proper grownup when he looked like that. "You absolutely _did _save him. He's alive because of _you_. Actually," he added. "We're _all_ alive because of you." It was kind of nice to hear that, even if it wasn't nice enough to overwhelm the crushing sense of failure that was hanging over me.

"I guess I am pretty awesome." I tried to put on a brave face, if anything was going to make me feel worse, it would be to listen to the Doctor tell me how well I did. He grinned in return and patted my shoulder reassuringly.

"Yes, Fitz. Awesome," The word sounded funny coming from him. "Still, it might help if you speak with him." He wasn't saying it would help the Professor, he was saying it would help _me_. It was something of a relief to know that even without explicitly telling him, the Doctor knew how screwed up I was feeling about all of this. Even if it meant I was doing a real crap job of hiding it. I smiled at him, a hopelessly tragic smile, but it was better than no smile at all.

"I can't." I admitted. Besides, what would we talk about? With the Professor on a mission to absorb as much as he could about the past few weeks, it was going to take some really delicate maneuvering to avoid talking about who exactly I had been to him. I could already see it now. Oh hey, great weather we're having on the ship. And also, remember that time we hooked up? A couple times? No? Well, glad we could have this little chat. Also, I think I was kind of in love with you. See ya.

I couldn't imagine a conversation I wanted to have less.

"Alright." The Doctor nodded, giving my shoulder another squeeze before letting me go. "Even if he doesn't remember, which he _will_," He added quickly. Real smooth, Doctor. "Regardless. You don't have to leave. Donna says we owe you a trip where you aren't constantly on the brink of death. I'm inclined to agree. You've certainly earned it. And with the Pond's still busy living their…_boring _lives," the Doctor pulled a face as he thought of it. "Well, we're a few companions short. I'd be happy to have you on board."

Actually, vain as I was, I was totally flattered at the prospect. Aliens, real live _aliens_ thought I was cool enough to travel with. Even with my constant swearing, generally sarcastic attitude, and occasionally inappropriate bursts of misdirected anger. It was like he had asked me to eat lunch at the cool kids table. My mom would be so proud! Oh yeah. My mom. And Lucas. Real life. I had just sort of neglected that part of my brain this whole trip.

"Thanks, but I think I still need to get home. I'm not sure I was cut out for this." Besides, there was the couch to think of, and the cheetos. Keep the dream alive!

"Well, I thought you did brilliantly." There he was, fanning my brutalized little ego again. I wish I could get this on film.

"Yeah, beginners luck." I shrugged. "It'll make a good story for the grandkids. Of course, then they'll send me to a home, because I'll sound like I'm nuts." I turned back to my bag and realized it had packed itself. With those mystery items tucked away. _Again_.

Fine. I zipped the whole thing shut. I'll keep them, but she couldn't make me unpack them. Ever. So hah. Point goes to the human.

"Well, it's been my experience that sanity has always been a bit overrated." He was wearing that silly grin of his and I had to return it. It was weird how much more comfortable I felt around him now. Mostly because of the voice interface. I hadn't really explained that to him in a lot of detail, and honestly, I didn't really plan to.

"So you're sure you want to go home?" He asked as I hoisted the bag onto the floor.

_No_.

Yes. I definitely did. That first was just the opposite. I was playing the opposite game…in my head.

Maybe?

I guess that covered all the options.

What I _did_ need, was a break. A chance to shut my brain down, let all the horrible events sort of simmer there for a while, and then see what came out the other end when I finally switched everything back on. Could I deal with what happened? Or was I one loose bolt away from eating crayons for the rest of my life? I had no idea, no way to gauge it. This whole trip had been one long shock induced coma. That I had been awake for. And now I was trying to juggle the Professor into that?

Really, it just seemed like I'd be able to sort through it all a little better if I could just get away from all this…stuff.

You know. Aliens, time lords, spaceships. Which also happened to be time machines. Oh, and _sentient_. Don't forget the dead, but _not_ dead ex-boyfriends.

Yeah. It would be loads easier.

"Yeah." I finally said, because that was the easier answer. Easy peasy. That was how things were going to go for me from now on. They better, anyway. God dammit. Or I was going to be _pissed_.

"Because of the Professor?" I wasn't sure why, but I hadn't expected him to ask that. So instead of my casual 'I'm totally fine' face, I opened and shut my mouth a few times, and turned bright red. Tried to come up with a convincing lie, failed.

"A little?" No, _no_ dammit. You are _not _running away because of a _boy_. You are _so_ not getting invited to the cool table now. "Actually, it's more that I need some time away. This has all been just…_really_ mentally debilitating. And insane." There, that was a good answer. Dammit. Why hadn't I come up with it thirty seconds sooner?

"Fair enough." The Doctor answered with a smirk. "Come on then, Donna's waiting to say goodbye. I'll carry your bag." It was nice to know that they both kind of suspected that I was really leaving, you know, after the outburst in the cafe. At least I wouldn't have to explain myself again. Donna was already in the control room and she pulled me in for a tight hug as I climbed the last of the stairs.

"It's been…well, I don't suppose _fun_ is the right thing to say. But you've been fun to have around. What, with this one always yammering on about, oh, every bloody thing." She rolled her eyes at the Doctor who looked offended.

"I do not _yammer_-"

"Yeah, yeah, spaceman. Anyways. See you, Fitz, maybe." She tweaked my nose as she released me. "And try to stay out of bloody trouble, will you?" She said in an exasperated tone. I knew how she felt.

"Can't make any promises." I grinned. Except, I was _totally_ making that promise. There would _be_ no more trouble. I was putting my foot down. I'll get a 'trouble-free' tattoo on my forehead. Actually, that might have the effect of _causing_ trouble. Maybe I'd just write it in sharpie as a sort of trial run first. Still. That was my mid-years new years resolution. And it was going to stick.

"It was lovely to have you along, even if the circumstances weren't entirely…ideal." The Doctor also gave me a hug, unfortunately he was loads bonier than Donna. And then he kissed both of my cheeks. It was…well. It was a weird goodbye, even for an alien. But I didn't let that crush the warm fuzzy feelings that I was getting for knowing that they were both genuinely going to miss me. It was nice to make friends, even if they happened to be incredibly old, bow tie wearing, British, and alien. Who also time traveled. Through space.

I guess beggars can't be choosers.

"Are you going somewhere?" Crap. I spun around, spotting the Professor in one of the seats, I hadn't even seen him when I came in. He was munching on an apple and reading from a rather long scroll that he had draped across his lap. He was dressed in a kind of gray suit vest, a tie and dark shirt beneath it. But he was also wearing jeans. What was he going for? Classy casual? Oh god. He was a god damn _hipster_. I threw up in my mouth a little.

Then I realized I was staring and guiltily looked up, of course he was watching me. I couldn't be sure if he had been watching us the whole time, or if he had just timed it perfectly so that I would look into his eyes the moment he could catch me. So I could be extra embarrassed. He was always doing that. I suspected.

"Doctor, can you help me- Er. Get a thing?" I shot a look over my shoulder as Donna started to descend the stairs back down the hallway. Oh don't you _dare. _

In a moment, I'm just going to help Fitz with her-" He frowned as he watched Donna start to make frantic 'get the hell out of there' gestures with her arms. I prayed that the Professor couldn't see her from where he was sitting.

"Ohh…right." The Doctor finally understood what Donna was getting at and his eyes flicked between my own and the Professor's. "I've, um. Just got to go help Donna. With a…_thing_." Now I was starting to make stern gestures as well, of the 'Don't you leave me here you piece of-' but he was already hopping down the stairs. Stopped at the bottom to turn around and flash me a grin and a cheerful thumbs up.

Oh how I _hated _them.

Turning around slowly I put a strained smile on my face. Had I said the last two days were awkward? They were a tea party compared to the thundering earthquake of uncomfortable this was about to be.

"Well, they're both acting a bit strange." The Professor muttered mildly, craning his neck to see where they had gone. For the most part, he seemed oblivious to their deliberate plotting. That was something. Then his cool eyes were back on me. "Didn't you just fetch that bag earlier today?" He asked, nodding to the suitcase at my feet.

"Um. Yeah." It's fine, keep it cool. You can do this. He's just a person, use words, talk. It's _no big deal_. No, I lied. It totally is a big deal! He's not a _person_, he's an _alien_. You're doomed. DOOMED. GET OUT WHILE YOU STILL CAN.

So much for keeping my composure.

"I picked it up from the hotel. And now I'm going home, so I'm taking it with me." My voice was coming out a bit squeakier than I meant it to.

"Home?" His dark eyebrows arched sharply. He sounded surprised. And angry. Well, the angry part I was imagining. It was just that he had such a weird _low_ voice. The kind of voice the Professor used to save for when he was especially pissed with me, or especially…other things. Do _not_ think about that right now.

"Yeah, you know, where I live?" Good one. That was comedy gold right there. "Sort of mentioned going there earlier today?" When I lost my marbles in a cafe. Rather publicly? Perhaps you remember?

"Oh. I just thought you were having a bit of a…" He trailed off, whatever untactful statement he was going to make, he seemed to have thought better of it. "So you're _leaving_?"

"Yes, that is the plan."

"Oh." He stood up abruptly, forgetting about the scroll until it tumbled to the ground and clattered loudly. He bent to pick it up and then decided against it. He started to step forward, when he realized he was still holding a half eaten apple, stared at it, and after some internal debating, set it back down on the chair. His awkward fumbling almost made me feel less like wanting to melt into the floor and die. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize. I guess I just assumed you would stay." He looked a bit surprised, and then his face hardened. "It's not because of me, is it?"

God damn time lords and their stupid clever mind reading. Of course, if they _were_ so clever, maybe he'd realize that was _not_ the question he should be asking me.

"Oh, of course not." I cackled, an awkward mechanical sound. But I pulled it off, mostly. "No, I'm just kinda, you know. Burnt out after all the crazy stuff that happened. Well, I guess you _don't_ know," uh oh, steering into sensitive subject. Abort! "But I promise, it was pretty nuts. For a human anyway. Maybe less for you guys…" Rambling, I was rambling. And apparently unable to stop myself. "But what do I know, right?" I was starting to feel more and more like an idiot when I thought I saw him smirking. Not a real smile, but a hint of one. Maybe? No. Why did it matter? It _didn't_. Shut up.

"Yes, the Doctor has been filling me in on quite a bit. I'm sorry I didn't get the chance to hear your side." Well, you see, that's because I've been _avoiding_ you. "But I'm told you preformed quite admirably. Human or otherwise. You have my thanks for your part in keeping me alive."

"Don't mention it." Really. Don't. Because I didn't. Not really. The silence dragged on a moment too long to be comfortable and he stepped forward again.

"Here, let me get your bag." He stooped down before I could protest. Sure, be nice to me, that won't make it even _worse_. He gestured for me to lead the way and smiled. Of course, that didn't really count, it was just as fake and plastic as mine was. But it _was_ technically a smile.

Seriously, shut _up_.

I was trying to think of anything to say that would make things less awkward, or weird. I wasn't doing very well. We reached the doors and he pulled one of them wide, propping it open against his back.

"Well, it was a pleasure to meet you Fitzgerald." He held out his hand and I numbly shook it. "Again." Something flicked across his eyes when he said that. Good, so it wasn't just me who was uncomfortable with saying goodbye to a total stranger.

"Yeah, you too." That seemed like the wrong thing to say. Search me if I had any idea what the _right_ thing to say was. There was no etiquette book for 'sorry you lost your memory and I can't cope with the new you'. I had checked when I was stuck in the library.

"I'm sorry too," his formal tone had softened and he tightened his grip on my hand before I could pull it away. I found myself caught looking into those obnoxiously blue eyes of his again. "For how things have turned out. I know it's not been easy for you."

"Thanks." I mumbled and he finally released my hand. Why was he being so _nice_? What a _jerk_. Didn't he know that I hated him? He was just…just a big stupid idiot. Who, not only was the cause of all this. But also, somehow, _not_ the cause of it. And…and.

God. I was so confused I could just throw up.

"My pleasure." He nodded politely and handed me my bag. I stepped outside before I had to look at him again and was struck by how familiar it was. I couldn't have been more than a block from my place. Lucas' place, I guess. It was all the weirder because just this morning I had been on another continent entirely. I took a few steps out and turned back to the ship. The Professor was still standing there, watching me. He almost looked like he was going to say something.

"Adios." I gave him a mock salute and made sure to keep a tight smile on my face.

"Goodbye." He said, ducking inside the ship again and closing the door. I watched as the TARDIS started to thrum and wheeze. The wind picked up around me and I realized that the blue wooden walls were slowly dissipating, until they were gone entirely.

Well, that was weird.

No one else was there to agree with me though. I crossed the street with my bag, making sure I was near the alley where I wouldn't be bothered, sat down on the curb, and burst into tears.


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N: Okay, so technically, this should be a Professor chapter. I wrote it, and rewrote it, and rewrote it again. I hated it. And then I was like. Hey! I hate this chapter, I'm deleting it. So I did. Tadaaah!**

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><p>"<em>Starlight, I will be chasing your starlight, until the end of my life. I don't know if it's worth it anymore"<em>

I had been kidnapped. Three times actually, by three _different_ species of aliens. On three different ships. I had been body snatched. Nearly died. I'd gone to the moon. Also, there was that bit where I went back in time.

I had only missed _two_ text messages.

No one had even _realized_ I was gone.

I guess, technically, I had only been gone for twenty four hours, but _still_. One text was from Beth asking if 'OMG have U seen the shop?'. She didn't actually ask if I was okay, or if Mr. Jacobs was okay. I have the _best_ friends. The other text was from Lucas. He was letting me know he had headed out to the cabin with his brother Eric, and that he'd be back on Sunday.

It was totally underwhelming.

So, in celebration of…I don't know, surviving, and also, having the apartment to myself for the weekend. I threw myself a little party. There was dancing, and drinking. And possibly a hangover the next morning. But I felt better. Well, mentally. The headache blew pretty hard.

After that, I waited for Lucas to come home. So I could break up with him. I left out the unnecessary details like, aliens had blown up the bookstore, I had been possessed by a time lord, oh, and I had run away with another man.

Besides, if I was sitting there calmly on the couch, explaining why I wanted out of the relationship, I couldn't _also_ be traveling through space and making out with strangers. Right? I couldn't be in two places at once. I thought the logic was sound. Mostly.

Probably had more to do with not wanting Lucas to think I was a total asshole. Probably definitely. I knew I was a big fat jerk, and that was probably good enough. Alright, more slightly skewered logic. I was a liar and a coward. I was flawed that way.

Still, it went pretty well. Well, mostly. I mean, there wasn't shouting. It was awkward, _god_ was it awkward. Then again, when had things ever _not_ been awkward for me? But it came down to the fact that I just wasn't really in love with Lucas any more. I wanted more than what we had. It was just too bad that the guy I thought I might have had it with had sort of _died_.

Besides, Lucas was a good guy, he deserved better. That's why I definitely knew I needed to end it.

It was the most grown up thing I had ever done. Too bad they didn't give out badges for that kind of behavior.

I moved out, onto Beth's couch, and I kind of moped around for a week. Then I realized that my savings account was taking some serious damage for splitting the groceries and utilities with her and I probably needed a job. Good thing for me, the local retail shop was hiring. Awkward thing for me was Lucas happened to be one of the managers. Funny enough, he was the one who interviewed me.

Did I say funny? I meant to say 'dear god WHY?'. Still. We both pretended to be grown ups, I got a job, and we got along as well as two people who had recently split up could. Which is to say that we avoided each other as often as possible, and when we did speak, it was entirely business related.

Of course, that had been weeks ago. Things were actually a little better now. Though I suspected it had more to do with the cute read head who worked as the lead cashier. She was always so giggly and bubbly and so damn…_cute_. Made me want to puke and stab out my eyes at the same times.

What was that I was saying about being a grown up? That was a lie. A vastly exaggerated lie.

What had it been? A little over a month since we broke up? And yet here he was, letting little miss perfect bat her eyes at him, and laugh at all his jokes. I was pretty certain she was a few years younger than me too.

Pervert.

Okay. Bring it down a notch. I'm losing it a little. I don't _really_ care. Okay, I mean, I do, but not because I want him back or anything. It was more that he had bounced right back into the dating scene, and had been so _good_ at it. While I was still here, fantasizing about the Professor waltzing in with his memories intact and sweeping me off my feet.

Not that I did that a lot.

Maybe.

Remember what I said about being a liar? Okay, but to be fair, I also fantasized about Brad Pitt doing the same thing. So it wasn't something I was really expecting, you know, in the real world. Which was the part that made it a bummer when my reality check came to call.

"Trouble with the stickers?" Lucas popped his head up over the fortress of DVDs I was buried behind. I had been staring into space again, instead of labeling the clearance movies with this stupid _useless_ piece of crap that spit out orange stickers like it was confetti. Coating my hands and work vest with the neon things. And if I tried to peel them off, they'd just tear into the individual little triangles so I'd spend ten minutes trying to get rid of _one_.

"No, I'm good. Thanks." There was another lie, but I certainly wasn't going to ask Lucas for help. _Again_. Each time was just a little more humiliating than the last. I'd just wait for John to come in, he'd show me how to use it properly. You know, when his shift started. In three hours.

"Alright, I'm just headed off to lunch. You guys are on your own for a bit." He flashed a grin and turned to head for the break room. Mary, or Megan, or Princess sun-shines-out-her-ass was waiting for him, that perky grin plastered on her face. I tried not to grind my teeth.

The next set of DVDs were tagged remarkably fast, if a little violently. Of course, just as many ended up _not_ on the DVDs, but that was neither here nor there. Whoever thought it had been a good idea to make stickers that exploded the second you touched them, had been an _idiot_. But I was getting better at it. Maybe. Okay, I was in clearance sticker hell, and I was _burning_. By the time John came in, I was either going to have mastered it, or I'll have ritually sacrificed the tagger and all the spools of stickers, and possibly have burnt down the store.

I took my current pile over to the poorly organized cardboard box where we had been stuffing them and realized, at this rate, they wouldn't all fit inside, so I was going to need to try and stack them a bit neater. Great, something else I was looking forward to.

"You've changed your hair." A man said behind me.

My first thought _should_ have been 'who the hell says that?'. But it had kind of been a stressful day, you know, _stickers_. So my more immediate thought was that he was going to ask me about the new Justin Beiber CD that had just come out. Just like every _other_ customer that day had. Despite the eight foot tall sculpture display of that _very_ CD at the front of the department. The one people had to walk _around_ to get to me in order to ask the question. In fact, my next thought, was that if he _did_ ask about the CD, I was going to make him _eat_ one.

And then all my thoughts turned into a puddle of goo because when I turned around, it was the Professor. My jaw swung open, in an attempt to say _something_ I'm sure. I didn't, instead I just kind of made an 'eep' noise and then remained silent. He gave half of a strained smile which was followed by a confused frown. We stood there in silence for a good thirty seconds.

"Your hair," he supplied helpfully when it was obvious I was incapable of any sort of speech. "It used to be white, didn't it?"

"Oh," I said, my hand consciously clutching at my hair as though I needed to remind myself what _hair_ was. To be fair, I was having a hard time catching back up. Despite my _occasional_ fantasy, I had half convinced myself that I had imagined everything. There was no such thing as time lords, aliens, or time travel. That was just _too_ crazy. I was still talking to myself, in my head. Not saying anything. He was waiting for me to say something, what the hell were we talking about?

"Yes." I grasped at the answer desperately. I was not nearly alternative enough to pull off white hair back on boring old earth. It was now a respectably boring brown. It also seemed like it was finally growing back in its old color, except for an annoyingly defiant patch at my temple which decided it didn't care what the hell the rest of my hair was doing, it was going to keep on trucking with that whole 'white' thing.

"It looks nice." He nodded in a civil way. Sort of similar to the way someone might comment on a piece of art from a particularly ungifted six year old. "You um…you seem to have some stickers…"

"Yeah, the tagger is broken. Sometimes." I mumbled as I tried to brush what I could off of my hands. Of course, that just made them separate and spread. It was pretty ineffective. You know what? He can't just waltz in here and make me feel like an idiot. I _already_ felt like an idiot without his special time space alien-ness.

I was doing just _fine_. I had a job, I had a…couch…that I was borrowing. And…

Whatever, I was doing remarkably well for almost being dead a month ago. Or, possibly, a few days ago. Depending on how I was supposed to look at my time line. Time lines?

"What are you doing here?" That could have probably come out less rude and snappy. Could have, but it didn't, since it went ahead and bypassed the brain part of me.

"Shopping, obviously." He said, the corners of his mouth quirking upward. Like he thought I was a moron.

Well, there was a DVD tucked under his arm. I had sort of failed to notice that. Of _course_ he wasn't here to make you feel like an idiot, _idiot_. He wasn't even here to _see_ you. And he sure as hell didn't come to sweep you off your feet. Not that I wanted him to.

"Oh, right." I nodded quickly, focusing on peeling some of the sticker remnants off of my fingers. Did time lord's watch movies? It wasn't something that had ever come up. Sort of never had the time.

I had loads of time for movie watching now.

I spared a glance for the DVD he was holding. _Legally Blonde_. I blinked, screwing up my eyes, maybe it wasn't…no. It definitely _was_. I looked back up at him, in all his haughty and dignified glory. My composure held for another four or so seconds. And then I snorted, very loudly, in the least classy way I could. I clapped my hand over my mouth before I could make more noises that would label me such a _severely_ uncultured lady.

"I…Is there something amusing?" He was frowning now, but he looked more confused than annoyed.

"No," I shook my head, unsuccessfully trying to wipe the idiot grin off my face. "I just didn't know you were a fan of chick flicks." The confusion deepened even further as he tried to guess at what I was saying, so I finally took the DVD from him and displayed it so he could see the very pink and very blonde woman grinning on the cover, with her little dog.

"Ah," I could see his brain trying to rapidly come up with some kind of reasonable excuse. Fat chance, I totally busted you guy, and your terrible taste in movies. His lips pressed in a tight line before he answered. "Yes, well. I thought it would be rude if I came in and bothered you while you were working. Thought it would be best if I appeared to be a customer."

_Bothering_ me? He was just here bothering me? He _was_ here just to make me feel like an idiot?

"Oh." That was my go-to answer for everything. Or at least, everything that I didn't actually have any idea how to respond to. He shifted on his feet uncomfortably, there was that looming silence again.

"I apologize if you're busy," He motioned his head to the pile behind me.

"No, it's fine." I said a little too quickly.

"Good. Good." He nodded. "It looks like…you seem to be doing well." He added politely.

"Yeah, things are going really great. I haven't drowned or been strangled, or been to the moon or anything weird in a whole month. It's been peachy."

"A month?" His eyebrows raised slightly. I couldn't really tell if he was surprised by the time line, or by the bizarre events that I had just rattled off. It was hard to remember that he didn't really know any of that happened. Well, beyond what the Doctor had told him.

"Yeah…why?" I asked him, suspicious.

"Well, it's only been- I suppose the Doctor wasn't very mindful of what the calendar said when he landed." He nodded thoughtfully, and I picked up on what he meant. I was grateful for that at least, I didn't want to have to ask him to dumb it down to _human_ level. It didn't even phase me that badly, him implying that they had been away for a much shorter time than I had been. You know, confirming that time travel was _real_. I think it helped that I just breezed right past it. I was living a normal life again, and probably doomed to live it for a good long while. I didn't need crazy physics defying possibilities screwing me up again and giving me a desperate need for therapy. Or, a _more_ desperate need, anyway.

"So then, what are you _actually_ doing here?" I risked looking up into those pale eyes again, but I might as well not have bothered. I couldn't read anything in them and I only felt awkward when he met my gaze.

"The Doctor and Donna were in the mood for chips," he shrugged casually. "Thought we'd pop in to see how you were getting on while we were here." The way he said it made it seem like he couldn't have cared one way or the other. It did seem weird that the Doctor and Donna were nowhere to be found. Maybe they were off finding chips and had sent the Professor as their little errand boy. Making sure the human hadn't turned into a gibbering idiot? Check.

I don't know why that had to make me so miserable.

"Well, I'm doing good." I gave a strained smile and turned back to my stack of DVDs. Not abruptly enough to say I didn't want to talk to him any more, but just enough that it should have been clear that I _was_ fine, and I didn't need any alien friends to make me feel better about myself. "How's your memory thing going?" I asked lightly, grateful that I couldn't look at him now. If I could have I would have searched his face desperately for any sign that it might have changed.

"It doesn't seem to be progressing much further. But it has only been a week."

Much further? Did that mean there _were_ some things he remembered? Some things like, about _me_? No, don't be stupid. It just meant that things weren't progressing at all. Didn't it? God, why did he have to be so god damn cryptic?

Oh, right. I'm stickering. I better get back to that so it doesn't look like I _cared_. There, one sticker successfully attached to the case without accidentally getting it stuck to my hands or clothing. Someone give the girl an award.

"Well, sorry about that." I finally said when it seemed like he wasn't going to add anything else. Of course he wasn't, he was Mister mysterious, why would he try and say something that wasn't vague and unhelpful? "Say 'hi' to the Doctor and Donna for me. It was nice seeing you again." No, it _wasn't_ nice. Not even remotely. It was weird. And awkward. Neither of those things fit into my category of 'nice'.

"Fitzgerald," his voice had a strange tone to it and as I looked up, I realized he had stepped closer, uncomfortably, and _very_ distractingly close. Of course, I bet it wasn't distracting for him at all. I mustered up my best impassive glare, but when I looked up, I realized he wasn't looking _at_ me. He was staring at the floor, sometimes the wall. Basically anywhere that wasn't _me_.

That was _my_ move. Who the hell was he to take that away from me?

"Listen, I know there's no real guarantee that I'll ever remember. Or that I'll be like I was before. And I can't promise that I'll approve of you, or even that you'll tolerate my occasionally brusque manner." Occasionally. _Hah_.

He did glance at me, quickly, before looking away again. Was he rambling? This sounded a lot like rambling. Well, I mean, it sounded a lot better than _my_ rambling, his voice was still very clear, but it was no longer the cool distant tone that I knew.

"But the fact remains that I have been led to believe that we _were_ friends. I can't fully explain why, but I've also come to the conclusion that you were of some importance to me. So, if you were interested, then perhaps, you might like to come travel in the TARDIS again."

_What_? What did he just say? His blue eyes were focused on me again and I was found I was very much trapped staring back at them. I _must_ have misheard. He _was_ talking quickly. Maybe he had just started to speak so fast that it all became a blur and I started to fill in the blanks. No, you know what? This was probably one of those delusional fantasies I had. He wasn't _really_ here, I was in my own little world, stamping stickers on everything.

I blinked a few times. No, he was still there. Staring at me. Looking almost…anxious. Besides, if I was imagining it, I feel like I wouldn't still be standing here, having no idea what to say. I was always super smooth and casual in my fantasy world. That's why it was a _fantasy_.

"Go…with you…on the TARDIS?" I heard myself speaking. I had to say it out loud, that was the only way my brain could come up with to ensure that it had actually happened. So it would be really unfortunate if I was just talking to myself, but it's not like I'd never looked like an ass in public before.

"With _us_," he supplied quickly. Of course this had to be real, because why would he want to offer me a _direct_ invitation. That would mean that he somehow approved of me and my _humanness_. Wouldn't want that, would we? He seemed to pick up on my annoyance. "Of course, _I _would appreciate the opportunity to speak with you about the events that happened-"

"I don't think I'd want to do that." I interrupted him. There was just absolutely no way there could be a conversation about that that ended in anything other than me wanting to melt into a puddle and die. "Actually, I don't think I _ever_ want to talk about it." I clarified. My heart sank a little as the ridges in his forehead deepened in a frown.

Of _course_ that was the only reason I had been invited along. It was always about how useful I was.

"Sorry, I know that's not what you want to hear. I guess it was kind of the point wasn't it? It's fine though," I shrugged. "I'm doing okay here, I know you guys have crazy time traveling to get back to-"

"No," he said abruptly. "That's not it at all. I was merely attempting to convey that I would be… appreciative of the opportunity to speak with you. I had thought humans liked to rehash about their history, but if you're not interested in talking about your past experiences, understandably so, then I'd be equally happy to converse about other things."

"Other things?" I frowned at him. What else could I possibly have to say to him? Was I supposed to tell him what he had been like before? How was that any different from me saying I didn't want to talk about the past?

And then he rolled his eyes at me. Yes, _rolled_ them. Followed by an exasperated sigh. A sign that the conversation wasn't going very well.

"Yes. _Other_ things." He sounded a little frustrated. "General conversation, words, the weather. What do they call it," he waved his hand in the air, searching. "_Small talk_. Chatting. Possibly about the ridiculousness of the Doctor's bow ties. And his _hair_." He said with a mild sneer. I hadn't realized he _knew_ how silly bow ties were. Especially since he was wearing another suit vest over his dress shirt. Though this time he was wearing slacks that matched, and a heavy wool coat. I guess that made him less hipster-y. Kind of. It sort of suited him though.

Gah, could I _not_ ogle the strange alien man? Was that really _too_ much to ask?

"What I'm trying to say is that I would _like_ you to come along."

What? What did he say? Would it be way too obvious if I tried pinching myself right now? Did I even _want_ to go with him?

Hah. That was a laugh. Of course I did.

"Ah, there you are," the Doctor suddenly came flying in between the shelves, looking a bit flustered. "Oh, hello Fitz, lovely to see you again." He said with a grin, gripping my shoulders and kissing each of my cheeks. Yep, still a weird thing to do.

"Listen," he said, turning to the Professor who had stepped back when he arrived. He had that same closed distant look on again, the one he had been missing for a good forty five seconds there. Thanks _Doctor_. "The local authorities may or may not currently be on their way, so I think it's probably best if we got moving."

Donna came running up immediately after him, looking particularly cross.

"The authorities?" The Professor seemed to have already forgotten I was there. "What's happened?"

"Well," the Doctor twisted his hands together and smiled apologetically. "There was a bit of a mix up with the shop clerk…"

"He got in a shouting match with him and then exploded all the crisps in the aisle." Donna added. "Hello sweetheart, nice to see you." She nodded at me and waved her hand.

"Yes, well, he _said_ they were chips. I was merely trying to demonstrate that he was, in fact, _wrong_." The Doctor said defensively. "Although, I admit, I only meant to open _one_ bag. Sonic got a bit out of sorts there." He pulled the screwdriver out and frowned at it, hitting the end of it against the palm of his hand.

"They _are _chips." I frowned at him. "What did you think they were?"

"Not you too!" The Doctor looked appalled. "Chips, you know, thick slices of potatoes, fried? They're brilliant!"

"Those are _french fries_." I rolled my eyes.

"French _fries_? Who would call them that?"

"Me. And I'm pretty sure everyone else on this entire continent." He was an alien, he knew everything. How could he _not_ know that?

"Ah," the Doctor said, nodding slowly. "Right then, chalk that up to life experience. The _point_ is, we need to be leaving. _Now_."

The Professor glanced my way as the Doctor started to turn back the way he had come. We had actually been getting somewhere, he said he'd _like_ it if I came with. And then the Doctor had come along and stamped his kooky foot right down on it, snuffing any hope I had entirely. Of _course_ he did.

"Coming Fitz?" The Doctor glanced back over his shoulder, a wry grin on his face.

Okay, I hadn't really expected that. But things were going well here weren't they? I mean, everything was settled back down. I had spend most of my time terrified out of my mind when I was traveling with them. Hell, I was still having nightmares about those blue bastards. And Rassilon for that matter. I had a job here, maybe a promotion in the future.

My eyes flicked back toward the Professor, he was watching me intently, but looking just as impassive as he had before. He had _said _he wanted me to go along. Small talk, conversation. It sounded like he wanted to try at least, to get to know me, despite me being a dreaded human.

I stared down at my hands and apron, covered in orange stickers. Safe, normal life. I'd probably meet someone soon, someone I could put up with reasonably well. That's what I wanted right? Safe? Normal?

_Boring_.

"Let me grab my coat." I said with a grin. I shucked the blue vest behind the counter and grabbed my olive pea coat. I was weak, I'll admit it. The TARDIS had good taste. When I turned back around, I saw the Professor was grinning. Actually _grinning_. It was incredibly goofy looking, not at all matching his usual very somber and stern looking face. I liked it immediately. Oh boy. I was in trouble.

"Brilliant," Donna grinned. "Allons-y!"

"No, no. We don't say that any more." The Doctor turned to her as we all headed for the door. I heard the page overhead alerting security and management to report to the floor. Oops, sorry Lucas.

"Well, I _do_." Donna stuck out her tongue at the Doctor.

"Alright then, Allon-" But he didn't finish, when we reached the doors, both of our loss prevention officers were approaching. "Run!" The Doctor shouted as he darted to the left just as the two men realized that we were the ones they needed to apprehend. I felt a cool hand clasp mine and looked up to see the Professor smirking at me.

Oh boy. I was in _serious_ trouble. And then we ran.

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><p><strong>AN #2: And that's all folks! This is the end! It's been crazy amazing! And thank you all SO much for reading. I may or may not have plans for a follow up (this pile of sticky notes suggests 'may' is the more likely candidate) but it will be delayed by at least a month. I have crazy uber things going on. You should check them out, if you haven't already! My other fic, which I've been neglecting in an effort to get this one finished, The Gallifreyan. And the fic I'm co-writing with Sarbrook under our super secret code name . The Hollow Man.**

**Again, thank you guys SO MUCH for your kind words and encouragement. I could not have done it without you! I'll keep people posted on the possibility of a sequel, but until then. GOODNIGHT FANFICTION!**

**Sort of. Except, I'm still on here. Just not with this story. You get the idea.**


	32. Sequel Chapter

_A/N: This is your official announcement that the sequel to Starlight is up. It's called "Keeping the Stars Apart" and I've included the first chapter below. Please come join me for another thrilling and probably embarrassing adventure! Any and all suggestions/reviews/comments about the current season are supremely appreciated! Even you, person who's reading this three years after it's been completed. Yes, I see you there. Tell me what you think! :D_

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><p><strong>Keeping the Stars Apart<strong>

**Chapter One**

"Try going to your left!" The Doctor shouted from across the room. He of course, was quite comfortable, and might I add, _very_ well protected behind a thick concrete wall. Him and his ridiculous bow tie and suspenders. And his stupid floppy hair. I was stuck behind a rather cheaply made looking table, something that made Ikea look classy. And I was slightly bitter about it, if you couldn't already tell. It was not at all reassuring. Neither was the prickly looking green guy I was hunched down next to. The Doctor had mentioned the species, at some point _before_ we were fleeing for our lives. I just couldn't be bothered to remember what it was. You know what was easy to remember? Cactus. Mainly because that's exactly what he looked like. That's what was sticking in my head just then.

I also wasn't overly upset about forgetting his species since it was _his_ damn fault we were being shot at in the first place. Well, his _and_ the Doctor's. This cactus fellow had pissed off the local authorities, something about bathing in a forbidden pool, or sacrificing virgins. Hell if I knew. He was just like us though, a visitor, a tourist. So whatever Big Brother laws that had been laid down, he had been unaware of. That was all good and well, except for the fact that the 'local authorities' were actually automated. They were drones. Oddly enough, they didn't really care about any of the excuses we had tried to make on the cactus gentleman's behalf.

So now we were running.

What really surprised me was the fact that I was still _surprised_ by this fact. After a month and a half of 'traveling' with the Doctor, a majority of it had been spent fleeing from imminent doom. The good news was that I'd probably never need to go to the gym again. The bad news is that I was constantly fleeing from _imminent doom_.

I had made some choices in my life that I was starting to regret.

"I already went left!" I shouted back. To our left was a pile of rubble. Well, it had been a wall at some point. A rather flimsy one. The sentries had proved that pretty quickly. The only thing we had going for us was the fact that they were crap shots. We were just playing a very intense version of flashlight tag. Except, errant laser beams were the flashlights. And instead of freezing until someone came to tag you back, well, you _died_. Not to worry though, I'd make a terrible corpse. But then again, I was _really _awful at tag.

In my defense, so was the Doctor. Somehow, despite that, he had some freakishly huge rabbits foot, or equally unlikely lucky charm that was helping his cause. So despite his wild arm flailing and generally useless dodging skills, he had so far survived. And he was loads closer to making it back to the TARDIS than I was, seeing how he was next to the only exit, where me and my cactus friend were on the completely opposite side of the room. The sentries blew a few holes in the wall behind us, just to remind me of how capable they were of dealing swift death. You know, in case I had forgotten. They were very thoughtful that way.

I shielded my head as dust and small pebbles rained down from above, the cactus screamed next to me. It was probably time for me to get a clover, a horseshoe, or maybe even a penny. I was ready to proclaim whatever I was currently wearing as my 'lucky' underwear if it would just get me out of this hell hole while my heart was still beating.

"Well, your _other _left then!"

"I don't _have_ another left!" I made sure to confirm that I hadn't accidentally confused to two directions before retorting. Because, at this point, the odds of my mixing up my right and left hands were unbelievably likely. After my trusty 'left hand makes the L shape' test, I knew it was the Doctor being the idiot. On top of that, I couldn't go back right, because we had just come from that direction, it was a long hallway that led us further and further away from the TARDIS, back to that stupid forbidden pool. Not a path I was planning on taking.

"If I could just get this bloody sonic to work…" I could hear the Doctor muttering in the silence that followed the last barrage of shots. He slammed it against the ground a few times, causing it to emit a few feeble whirs before going quiet again. This would be why it wasn't _entirely_ the cactus' fault we were being shot at. In an effort to save the man, the Doctor had come forward, arguing with the machines. And dropped his screwdriver into the forbidden pond. Then when he ducked down to retrieve it, he had knocked the cactus into the water. Apparently they took 'second offenses' very seriously here. This is why you shouldn't interfere in the affairs of others. It's not that I wish we had abandoned the cactus to his fate (I totally wished that) but the whole rescue thing would have been made substantially more pleasant if we weren't _all_ getting shot at.

"It's okay," the cactus spoke in a warbling voice as the pile of rubble exploded next to us. Apparently the sentries wanted to be extra thorough in killing that particular stack of rocks. Gold star for them. "Maybe if I just surrender?" I sighed, that was my second issue with getting involved with the cactus. Aside from the fact that he was getting us shot at, which, was a fairly _big_ first issue. He was also something of a wet noodle. I mean, _I_ was freaking out. _I_ was the wet noodle of the group, the panic patsy. If I was able to see how pathetic this guy was, well, that didn't bode well for him at all. "They have to accept surrender, right? Part of the programming. Has to be. They can't just _kill_ people." He nodded to himself as I turned to glare at him, wanting him to know just _how_ idiotic I thought his idea was. "That's the sensible thing to do."

"No, not really." I looked over my shoulder to where the Doctor was still hunched over, maybe if he would just do some of his classy flailing and create a distraction for us, we could at least make it to the next feeble table. It wasn't much to go on, but it was _something_. And I had the feeling if we didn't move soon, the cactus here was going to act on those crazy-

"I give up!" He shouted and I spun around. The idiot had stood up, hands up in the air rigidly. Looking, hilariously, _more_ like a saguaro.

I would have appreciated it a bit more if I wasn't busy swearing at him.

"Get back down here dumb ass!" Diving for his leg I tried to drop him to the floor, but he had already stepped out from behind the sanctuary of our table. The sentries waited a full second before opening fire. The wall behind him exploded in a mess of plaster and dust, miraculously leaving him unharmed. Which was unfortunate, because if he'd gotten shot, then I wouldn't have to try and drag him back here.

"No! No!" He shouted, his mouth hanging open as he still tried to stand straight, made more difficult by the fact that he was hunched over, his hands shrunk over his head. "I give up! Surrender!"

To my surprise, the shooting actually stopped.

"Searching…searching." One of the drones hummed in it's mechanical tone. "Command not accepted. Resume firing."

Well, it was a nice reprieve while it lasted.

"What? You can't!" He screamed, instead of using those precious seconds to get back behind cover. I wondered vaguely if cactus people also came with cactus brains. As in, none at all. I can't lie to you, well, I can. But I won't in this instance. I hesitated to help him out. Still hoping that maybe he would get shot in the leg or something, anything that might drop him out of the line of fire. Because not only was I not particularly happy with this idiot, I was also completely terrified of getting shot. And then, subsequently, _dying_. Both of those things were on my 'do not want' list. So when it came to risking my life for total strangers who were even more useless and trouble prone than myself, well. I gave it a good five seconds before I reacted.

"Fitz!"

Yeah, yeah. Alright Doctor do good.

In the cactus' defense, the whole 'forbidden pool' thing was total nonsense. There weren't even _signs_. Everyone knew you had to have warning signs before you _shot_ people. It was a rule. Somewhere. And it was just as likely that I would have made the mistake of dipping my foot into that stupid pool, so I couldn't just leave him out there. Instead, I closed my eyes and launched myself at him, hoping those spikes weren't as sharp as they looked.

Spoiler, they were. And I smacked my head against his sharp little elbow too. Cactus needed to eat. But we both did drop to the ground, mission accomplished. Though, we didn't drop behind anything that could have, you know, protected us. Instead of behind six feet of target, we were closer to six inches. That was something. It was just hard to appreciate as the lasers continued to destroy everything above our heads. I rolled off the cactus to stop from getting poked, and to get even lower, when part of the ceiling above us erupted. Some of these sentries _really_ had terrible aim. Not that I was complaining, but someone seriously overpaid.

I tried shoving the cactus back toward the table, but he just screamed as a piece of drywall fell onto his head. He was in full on 'panic and do absolutely nothing that might save his life' mode. Just what I needed.

"Most. Useless. Cactus. _Ever_!" I whacked him with a spare piece of plaster, just so he would know how incredibly annoyed at him I was.

"That's racist!" He shouted just as the floor next to his hand erupted. Ah, so they had figured out we were on the floor now. That was…unfortunate.

"Cactus!" I shouted, even as I tried to army crawl backwards. "Cactus! Cactus!" I was still shouting when I was forced to duck my head, the shots flying way too close above for comfort. Someone grabbed my ankle and yanked hard, sliding me across the slick floor and back behind another table. Right, getting _out_ of the line of fire. Probably what I _should_ have been concerned with instead of hurling possibly racists comments at the idiot who had gotten us into this mess. I could do that later. You know, if I lived.

"Having fun?" I rolled onto my back to see the Professor looking down at me rather scornfully with those piercing blue eyes of his.

"Loads," I coughed to clear the dust from my lungs. "Where the _hell_ have you been?" Safety in numbers, that should have been our advantage. But Donna had stayed in the spa, something I should have gone along with. The Professor had become rather fascinated with the largely automated planet, and had wandered off to investigate the engineering or something. The Doctor had mentioned a champagne waterfall. That sounded loads more interesting than looking at robots. Besides, I wasn't totally uncomfortable around the Professor, but nor was I interested in spending an afternoon robot browsing with him alone.

"Now, is that any way to speak to the man with the functioning screwdriver?" He held it up in his hand with his eyebrow raised as he waited for a break in the firing before he yanked the cactus man back in the same way he had dragged me.

"I almost got _shot_." I scowled, I was pretty sure one of my eyebrows was missing. Singed off. That was going to look weird. It was also making me less grateful to see the Professor than I probably should have been. "Ten bucks says I could take out the man with the functioning screwdriver and just use it myself." The cactus blubbered and shook nearby, but neither of us paid him any attention.

"Oh," he said, a smile pulling at his normally serious face. "I'd like to see you try." It was similar to the way he used to smile when he was feeling particularly dangerous. Okay then, so threatening time lords was probably on my 'to-don't' list from now on. No matter how many eyebrows I had lost. Noted.

"Am I dead? Did they kill us?" Cactus was making coherent sounds that I recognized as speech and I used that as an excuse to avoid having to keep staring down the Professor. The idiot was still clenched up in a ball, his eyes scrunched shut, oblivious to the fact that he had been pulled to safety. Well, temporary safety anyway.

"Yes, you're dead. Can I have your wallet?" I asked, irritably slapping at his leg. I thought the Professor's sinister smirk turned to something closer to amusement, but I couldn't be sure because he turned toward the sentries, popping his head above the table and firing his screwdriver three times.

Then everything, save for the whimpering of the cactus, went silent.

"What happen- Oh." The Doctor said in the muted calm, peeking out from behind his wall to see the Professor standing up. "Nice of you to join us."

"Yes. I thought so." The Professor said blandly as he strode across the room. I was satisfied with just sitting there for a bit and enjoying the feeling of _not_ being shot at. Simple girl with simple tastes. Well, relatively.

"Of course, you didn't need to _destroy_ them." The Doctor sounded a bit petulant as he joined the Professor. I wasn't going to complain about the sentries being scrap metal. In fact, I kind of preferred it that way.

"Do you really think I would spend all day studying them just to blow them up because you two couldn't bother to follow some simple rules?" The Professor scoffed.

Fine then, we weren't exploding the _homicidal_ robots. Fine. Whatever, maybe later we could make friendship bracelets and sing songs together.

"The technical details that went into these things is quite impressive. They're all actually connected to a main hub, which communicates with the ship in orbit. I mean, it's all easily replicated if you even have half a brain," so I guess that would disqualify _me_. "But still, quite elegantly done. Especially when you consider the species." It was funny how he sounded condescending even when he was trying to say something nice. Old habits die hard, I suppose.

"Yes," the Doctor didn't seem bothered, in fact, he seemed excited. "And did you see this? These fusion cells are actually self-replicating," I started to tune them out as they both started poking around the machines that were now harmless. The Professor occasionally grunted an agreement, but they were both lost in their robot _porn_. Great, I guess I should have packed a picnic.

"You're all barking mad!" The cactus was suddenly up and shouting, apparently angry about how cavalierly they were handling our would be assassins. "I'm getting out of here!" He shouted again, turning on his heel and running back the way we had arrived.

"No. Please. Come back." I watched him disappear. "You're _welcome_. Twit."

"Now, Fitz, you're never going to make any friends if you're not a bit more…polite." The Doctor chided over his shoulder.

"He was an idiot. New rule. No more saving idiots!" I decreed. Knowing my opinion would amount to almost nothing.

"I saved you," My eyebrows, or possibly, eyebrow, shot up. That had been the Professor. What was more surprising was the smirk on his face. He had been _joking_. That was strange all on its own. At least I had realized he was trying to be funny before I had stuffed my fist through his teeth.

"Yeah, but you owe me one. Actually, you owe me _two_." I replied smartly. His face shifted, concern followed by confusion. Oops, forgot that maybe he wouldn't really remember. Probably not so funny to tease him about that whole 'missing incredibly large parts of my memory' bit.

"Yes, I suppose I-"

"Oh, look at this!" The Doctor seemed even more excited, he was, of course, oblivious to our conversation. "It's a button, what do you suppose it does- Oh," A loud wailing started to shriek from the machine. I clapped my hands over my ears, wondering if it would really be too much to ask if just _one_ of these little adventures might not end with me having to take like seven aspirin when I got back to the TARDIS.

"What the _hell_ is that?" I glared in the Doctor's direction.

"That would be the tampering alarm." The Professor said, that condescending scowl back on his face.

"Oh, is that bad?" The Doctor asked, tucking the screwdriver back into his pocket with a frown.

"Well, only if you consider _more _sentries bad." The Professor muttered as he disabled the alarm.

"Not at all," the Doctor said with his bright smile. One that I sort of wanted to stomp out with my boot. "Perhaps, though. Just in case it's not exactly a _happy_ reunion, maybe you could fix my sonic…"

"It doesn't need _fixing_ Doctor, it needs airing out. Find a blow dryer."

"Maybe we should just leave. You know, before more show up? I feel like they're not going to be super excited to see us, and all their…comatose friends." As far as suggestions went, I thought it was a pretty good one.

"Yes," the Professor said absently while still fiddling with the controls. "However, it will be even better to clear their memory banks. That way we can make a less hasty exit. If you can stay out of the bloody pool." He shot the Doctor a look.

Maybe that was a good idea. I guess his afternoon spend studying robots hadn't been totally wasted. He finished whatever voodoo magic he was working on, and finally, satisfied with his work, tucked his screwdriver back into his long wool jacket. He started back in my direction, but the Doctor was still inexplicably fascinated.

"Professor, did you see this? How the surface matter-"

"Rematerializes upon impact," the Professor said with an impatient sigh. "Yes, Doctor. I did just explain to you that I've spent the day studying them."

"Yes, alright. No need to be a spoilsport." The Doctor humphed, casting him a look before returning to poking around the machine. Apparently not in any hurry to leave.

"You boys and your machines." I rolled my eyes as the Professor approached, the corner of his lips pulled up slightly. It was reassuring to see he had _some_ sense of humor, I was still feeling that part out.

"We're hardly _boys_." He said mildly.

"Sure, but the Doctor always gets all pouty when I call him an old man."

"I can _hear_ you." The Doctor said irritably, but it earned another smirk from the Professor. He offered me a hand up and I accepted it without much hesitation. Things were getting less awkward, that was nice. It was hard to focus too much on how freaked out I was supposed to be about the Professor not really being the Professor. Bullets, pissed off aliens, laser beams, and general end of the world scenarios tended to put things in perspective. Or, at least, they blurred it enough that I didn't mind.

"Down!" The Doctor's voice rang out as he shoved the Professor forward. I was tumbling backward as I watched a red laser slice through the air, snipping off one of his dark curly locks with precision. My back hit the ground hard and knocked the wind out of me. The Professor followed up with shoving his elbow deep into my gut so I couldn't even attempt at breathing again. My vision started to spin as I gasped like a fish. I was vaguely aware of the world exploding somewhere to my left. I hoped that meant the Doctor was taking care of business, hopefully this time with more destroying. Those robots had it coming, man. Everything went quiet again and I could see the Professor's face looming over my own, asking me if I was Madeleine Albright.

That was a stupid question, of course I wasn't-

Oh, _alright_. He was asking if I was alright. That made more sense. Good, because I looked _nothing_ like that lady, and frankly, was a little insulted that he had even considered- Nope. See, I'm losing focus again. He hadn't made that connection at all. Remember? That was in my head. Boy, I get real crazy when I can't breathe. Was that why the corners of my vision were starting to go dark?

"Air." I finally muttered, which was, thankfully, enough, because he shifted his weight and suddenly my lungs could fill again. Ah, blessedly wonderful air. My favorite. Well, my favorite right after 'not dying'.

"Have you got it?" The Professor's attention was on the Doctor. At least, I hoped he was talking to the Doctor, because I had no idea what he meant.

"Yes. I _got_ it." The Doctor sounded sheepish and I turned to see what he was so sorry about. Ah, one of the sentries. Or at least, what was left of one. It wasn't exactly…recognizable any more. The Professor had just shut them down, the Doctor had…well, he had _obliterated_ it. I guess I couldn't really complain, since that had been my vote originally. "I guess it sorted out the sonic as well." He shrugged as he held the steaming screwdriver away from his body.

"So you're okay?" It took me another moment to realize the Professor was speaking to me again. I turned my attention back toward him and realized, a little nervously, how _close _he was. That, and the fact that he was still, definitely, laying on me, was very distracting. And, well. Awkward. And familiar. Wow. Let's _not_ think about that, shall we? What had I been saying about things being less weird between us? That's what I get for trying to be optimistic.

The good news, was that I was pretty certain my near suffocation explained my bright red face. That, and the Professor seemed genuinely oblivious to how inappropriate it was for him to still be on top of me. Probably because he couldn't remember _why_ it should have been so inappropriate. No, calm down. It wasn't. Well, okay, it was. But not in the way you were thinking, pervert. Shut up. This was no big deal. Just an unfortunate landing. That he hadn't managed to get up from. Dear Penthouse- Stop thinking and answer god dammit!

"Just got the wind knocked out of me." I nodded as well as I could from the floor.

"Yes, well, I suppose you can thank the Doctor for that." He shot a look over his shoulder. When he turned back, he met my eyes, and finally realized the same thing that was running through my head. Welcome on board the awkward train, Professor. We're glad to have you. Then he was standing up fluidly, and pulling me along with him like a rag doll. I did my best not to act totally weird when my momentum sort of hurled me into his chest. And when I say 'did my best' I nearly leapt back from him. But I casually stared at the floor, like a boss.

"Time to go?" The Doctor asked, oblivious as ever. What was I talking about? Oblivious to what? My own imagined mortification? There was nothing _actually _going on. I was just having a bit of an overreaction was all. As I took my casual, and not at all paranoid looking step back, I realized he still had my hand gripped in his own. Don't look at him, don't look at him, don't- Shit. Though he seemed just as surprised as I was, his eyes flickering to our hands, and then back to me before releasing it with a confused frown.

"Yeah, I'm not really in the mood to run into any more of those things. _Fascinating_ as they were." I rolled my eyes, stepping away from the Professor by a good hand span. It was eerie sometimes how casual I could act. But, it wasn't really acting, was it? We were just friends, traveling buddies. It wasn't like I was trying to make him my boyfriend again. Not that he had ever _been_ my boyfriend.

Augh.

Shut. And up. Two words I _really_ needed to learn how to utilize.

"Yes, I agree. I imagine the sentries feel similarly." The Professor said smoothly. He wasn't even bothered. Of course he wasn't, ice rain through those veins of his. Ice and some kind of mind control device that made me act as weird as possible whenever he was around.

"It's not my fault!" The Doctor protested as we picked our way through the wreckage and back to the TARDIS. "My sonic was wet. It was malfunctioning. I was only trying to _disable_ it."

"I would say you did _that _rather successfully." The Professor added with a smirk and I snorted, but for the Doctor's sake, tried to cover it with a cough.

"Oh, shut up." The Doctor muttered miserably.


	33. Starlight Christmas AU

_A/N: So this is Simm!Master, and it's an AU post Starlight one-shot. I was just feeling full of holiday cheer and had no story to spread it to, so this is where it went! Happy holidays to everyone! Hope you enjoy it!_

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><p>It was clear from the scowl on his already generally unpleasant face, that he wasn't interested in joining us for ice-skating. Which kind of made me wonder why he didn't just decide to stay wherever he had been all morning, instead of tracking us down just to glare at us. But hey, whatever grinds your gears, Grinch.<p>

It did occur to me, maybe an hour later, that perhaps he wanted to speak with me. That was probably made more difficult by me pretending I was some ice princess out in the middle of the frozen lake. So I decided it was time to investigate, even if I did enjoy making him wait. My ankles were starting to get pretty loose, and if I didn't stop soon, I'd probably experience some more permanent damage. You know, other than the bruises I had already accumulated.

There _may_ have been some falling on my part. Like, a tiny bit. Most noticeably on my knees. And ass. But damn, if I didn't look good doing it. Plus it was nice to be injured in a completely normal and non life threatening manner. It was a fun change of pace.

My legs were instantly grateful to be back in their natural habitat of solid ground and sneakers. I congratulated myself on a job well done of escaping the ice rink without gouging myself with the blades. I don't know why, but it was always a secret fear of mine whenever I went skating. But my good mood dampened somewhat as I approached the Professor. He stood there with his arms crossed over his chest and a frown etched into his forehead in the least subtle position of disapproval I had ever seen. Once he saw me coming, he relaxed a little, which I took as an optimistic sign.

"You look like you're having just _oodles_ of fun." I raised my eyebrow at him as I leaned against the railing. "It's an entire city, _dedicated_ to Christmas. Can't you at least pretend to be cheery?"

"I'm a time lord. We don't celebrate Christmas."

"Well that doesn't seem to slow the Doctor any." It was hard to miss the Doctor on the ice. He was wearing the world's longest, and most obnoxiously colored scarf I had ever seen in my life. And he'd found a partner to skate with. They both looked like they were training for the Olympics. We watched as the Doctor expertly tossed his partner, into the air, and then caught her as they both glided effortlessly across the ice.

It was actually infuriating, the way he could do that. He was clumsy, uncoordinated, and about as awkward as a baby giraffe. There was absolutely no way he should even be able to stand on solid ground, much less _ice. _Yet here he was, some kind of figure skating magician. It was _impossible_. And that was coming from someone who had seen _several_ impossible things in the past few weeks.

"Well, he's had the great misfortune to have spent too much time amongst humans." He was teasing, but I shot him a glare anyway, just to let him know his sass wasn't appreciated. "He's got a bit of an edge as far as understanding your customs."

"Oh pfft." I waved my hand in the air. "You don't need an edge. It's easy. There's a tree, there's snow. Even if there _isn't_ snow, there's snow. There's presents. There's eating an ungodly amount of food; if you don't make yourself sick, you're doing it wrong. And then you invite all the relatives you can't stand during the rest of the year, to come stay at your house. Because everyone is supposed to pretend to be happy about family. Blah blah. Oh, and eggnog." I pointed at him for dramatic effect. "Spiked eggnog. Otherwise, what's the point. And that's it. That's Christmas. _Tadaa_."

"Well, here I was thinking it was meant to be something _important_." He rolled his eyes at me. Jokes on him, that just meant he knew plenty about Christmas and he was deliberately refusing to have a good time here with us because he was some kind of a scrooge.

"Sure, there's something about a guy, no room at the inn. Peace on earth. Compassion. I don't bog myself down with that garbage. _Presents_ is where it's at." I repeated for emphasis. "Oh! And Christmas lights. Lots and lots of Christmas lights."

"Presents?" He asked, almost sounding genuinely interested. I couldn't tell if it was a trick, but I decided to drown him in enthusiasm anyway.

"Yes! Presents! The second best part after lights. Well, and maybe tied with eggnog. But you pick gifts out for people, you keep it a secret, and then, bam! Christmas morning everyone unwraps the gifts and it's great and everyone feels awesome." If Santa was ever in need of a solid PR girl, I was all over that shit.

"Hm. Interesting." Yeah, pretty sure he was just mocking me. Well, phooey on him. Christmas was awesome, and if he couldn't see that, he was a big…dumb idiot. That I kind of liked. But still, the point stood. "So if someone were looking for a present for their girlfriend, what would you suggest getting them?" His amber eyes settled on my own and my stomach did a funny kind of twist over the word 'girlfriend'. I'd embarrassed myself a few weeks ago by using the term 'boyfriend' only to learn that time lords didn't really use that kind of terminology, and even if they did, the look the Professor had given me suggested I should never, under any circumstance, use it on him. Of course, it was a stupid reason to get excited, but here I was, giddy like an idiot anyway.

"A Ferrari."

"A what?" He asked with a frown. Dammit. There he went, ruining my perfectly delivered line. I sighed.

"It's a car. A really obnoxiously expensive car. That I probably can't drive. It's foreign, so it's probably on the wrong side anyway."

"It's Italian, and they actually drive on the same side of the road as I imagine you would, if I trusted you to drive at all."

It took a moment for me to fully form my fist. "You dirty lying-"

"Of course, you do realize, as a time lord, I have certain monetary privileges that would make acquiring something like that, despite it being ridiculous, quite easy."

I forgot about punching the Professor for a moment and remembered that the Doctor simply pulled handfuls of cash out of ATMs wherever we went. It was less funny to ask for a Ferrari if he could actually _afford_ the damn thing.

"You're right," I nodded. "I have to think bigger…Oh! I know. A moon- No! A whole _planet_! Preferably, one that homes mermaids, and mountains made out of diamonds. And then etched onto the side, it can say 'Fitz is super rad'. Yeah. That would make an _excellent_ present." I probably wasn't getting a present from the Professor this year. Or possibly any subsequent year. That was alright, annoying him would be my present to myself.

"Hm," he nodded thoughtfully. "I suppose that might work. Not sure why she'd want a planet mentioning how 'rad' _you_ are, but perhaps if I alter the name-" This time I punched him solidly in the shoulder. How _dare_ he imply that he was capable of having another girlfriend. I was a _saint_ for putting up with his obnoxious behavior. It'd be a miracle if he could find someone else who was willing to do the same. A grin pulled up at the corner of his mouth and spread to the rest of his face. It was more difficult to be annoyed with him when he did that, and I was pretty sure he damn well knew it. The man had a sexy smile. Bastard. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small box. "Anyway, I got you this."

"But…" I stared at it, frowning. It was definitely a gift. It even had a bow on it and everything. "But this is a _present_." Even saying it out loud sounded strange. "How did you-"

"I've celebrated Christmas before you _dolt_." He rolled his eyes at me. "Do you want it or not?"

"Oi! Watch with the name calling, or I'll make you do the planet thing instead." I snatched the box out of his hand before he could change his mind.

"What makes you think I haven't already done that?" But I was too busy opening the box to listen to his snarky comment. Because, oh my _god_, he got me a _present._ If him calling me his 'girlfriend' had gotten me all swoony and flustered, this was pushing me even further over the edge. He had actually gone out and purchased something forme. The thought was making my face stretch into some kind of idiot grin.

The box was finally open and I found myself staring again. To be honest, my expectations had been set pretty low. A gun is where I had placed my bets. Or a weapon of some kind, something destructive and practical. But I was completely flabbergasted by what I saw.

"It's…beautiful." I whispered. From the girl who generally hated pretty things out of sheer spite, it was an impressive statement. He had gotten me _jewelry_. It was a locket, about the size of a half-dollar. Both the front and back were inlaid with midnight blue glass and there was a raised silver filigree pattern adorned on both sides. It was something in Gallifreyan, a language I was coming to recognize, but would never _ever_ understand. It reminded me too much of math, and not in a good way. Not that there was a good way. The whole piece kind of reminded me of a star map. It was _stunning_.

"It's meant to be a ward," he explained when I continued to stand there, speechless. "This means 'safety' and 'protection'," he traced his fingers over the silver patterns. "Not that it will be any help against the kind of trouble you find yourself in. But I thought it was worth a shot." I had regained enough of my senses to shoot him a look, but then I was right back to admiring the locket. When I picked it up, a delicate looking chain poured like water from the box, dangling from my hand.

"Adantian. May I?" I nodded quickly as he took the necklace and looped it around my neck. "Lighter than air, stronger than tungsten carbide. It won't melt, break, or suddenly fuse together from a freak dose of radiation."

"I love it when you talk science." I smirked at him.

"And I've taken the liberty to check it for time lords. You're in the clear."

"My hero." I rolled my eyes, but we both knew I was secretly relieved this couldn't turn into another fiasco like my last experience with jewelry. "Where did you get it?" As soon as I said it, it seemed rude. But, where do you get jewelry with a language from a…well…dead planet?

"Get it?" He asked with a frown. "Don't be ridiculous. I made it."

"You _made_ it?" I picked it up and began to inspect it even more carefully. The most impressive thing I'd ever made was a diorama in grade school for 'Lord of the Flies'. The clay pig head on a spike had been my magnum opus, but _this_…this was much more impressive. And he had made it for me. I take back every rotten thing I'd ever thought about him. Well. Most of them.

Some.

"Well, yes. Since you _insist_ on carrying Rassilon with you everywhere," he hadn't exactly approved of that little detail, but if there was anything I had real talent for, it was being stubborn. "I thought it would be useful to have something you could _actually_ keep track of."

"So I can put Rassilon in _this_?" Itty-bitty living space _indeed_, genie of the lamp. I had no problem making him suffer in that capacity, since he hadn't given a shit about _my_ suffering. It did make me a little sad that I was going to sully the only pretty thing I owned with that scumbag, but at least I wouldn't have to constantly check my pockets to make sure the damn watch was still there.

"Yes. Or rather, you can carry him in that. I've put him in here." He held out his hand, where there was a small gray metal disc in his hand that reminded me of a watch battery.

I frowned, patting my jacket and feeling the reassuring lump in my pocket. "You can't have, because I've still got him here."

"Yes, well," he shrugged, not even pretending to feel guilty. In fact, he looked rather pleased with himself. "I managed to nick it off you the other night. You were sleeping rather deeply, I recall."

"You took-" My teeth were grinding together unconsciously. It was hard to stop when all I wanted to do was turn his bones into dust. "You _stole_ it from me when I was sleeping?"

"Briefly." He said, as though it didn't matter at all. "And now I'm returning it. I took extra good care of him for you." He held the disc out between us. I glared at him, it really just looked like a battery, which made me suspicious that this was some elaborate trick so he could get his own way. I took the disc and stared at it.

_Kill. Murder everything you love. Painful death. Agony._

The yellow glow that I had recognized in the watch swirled around the disc, but only when I moved it. The threatening voice in my head was also familiar from my time with the watch, when I risked looking at it anyway. It was good to see Rassilon was still just as charming as ever. _Merry Christmas to you, asshole_. It was childish, and I had no way of knowing if he could hear my reply, but it gave me a sense of satisfaction as I dropped the disc in my new locket and snapped it shut, silencing him.

Then I turned my glare to the Professor. I tried hard to be furious with him, really hard. He had stolen from me. Stolen something rather important. And he had called me his girlfriend. Given me a gift, a _surprise_ gift, no less. A _handmade_ surprise gift. Then, to top it off, he had returned the stolen artifact in a more convenient package. An artifact that he didn't actually want me carrying around at all.

"You are the _worst_ boyfriend." Couldn't be mad at him, and he damn well knew it. Especially if that smug grin on his face was anything to go by.

"I know. So you like it, I take it?"

"I love it. But if you steal anything from me, _ever_ again." I warned him with a stern finger. There was no reason to finish the threat, because he knew as well as I did that any doom I promised would ultimately be unfulfilled. Because I was weak. And he was adorable.

"Yes. The burning fury of a thousand white stars, I'm sure. Shall I give you some suggestions of what you should get me in return?"

"Um." It was unfortunate that he had decided he should be such a dramatically charming man two hours after I had already purchased his Christmas gift. "I sort of…already got you something."

"Oh?" He seemed genuinely surprised, maybe even a little pleased. Which was really too bad, because he was about to be incredibly disappointed. Whereas some people gave thoughtful, _handcrafted_, beautiful works of art for Christmas. I gave…dumb gifts.

"Yeah. Here's the thing. I didn't really think you were on board for the whole 'Christmas' bit, so I sort of got a present for you…that was also for me…" Oh he was going to be so disappointed. So so disappointed.

"Well now you've got my attention." His lip curled in a devious grin and it was obvious that his mind had gone straight to the gutter. Not that it ever left the gutter, mind you.

"Don't get your hopes up, perv. It's a hat."

That definitely threw him. "A hat?" He wasn't scowling yet, but I could tell he was preparing himself for it.

"Yep. Rudolph the Reindeer. It's got a glowing red nose on the front, button eyes, and little foam antlers that stick out the side."

There was a long ominous silence where he considered what to say next. If I had to guess, it was probably his 'we should see other people' speech.

"And you thought that a Rudolph hat is something I would have _wanted_ as a gift?" The look he was giving me suggested he was not a fan of ugly Christmas hats. Which was really too bad, because it was a _glorious_ hat.

"Well, _no._ But I thought you'd humor me for two seconds by wearing it. That would have been your present to _me_. And _then_, I was going to let you light it on fire. I even bought a mini candy cane blowtorch to do it. That was going to be my gift to you." Okay, it was really meant mostly as a gift to me. But I put up with a lot of shit, I think I deserved to see the Professor in a fabulously stupid hat. Hopefully the Doctor wouldn't find it, because I got the feeling he'd just ask me where I got it.

"Not bad," he admitted. "The bit with the destruction certainly appeals to me. I'm afraid it doesn't quite make us even though."

"Well no shit!" I threw my arms in the air. "How in the hell was I supposed to know that you'd go all ultra romantic on me and hand make this amazing piece of jewelry for me to keep the boogieman imprisoned in. That's hardly fair."

"You're right," he nodded thoughtfully. "I don't play fair." He stepped closer to me and brought his hand up to my waist, giving me shivers that had little to do with the snow that had started to fall. "How terribly thoughtless of me. Still, I'm afraid I'm going to have to insist that you make up the difference."

"I think they had a matching set of mittens?" There was hardly any distance between us at all, which was making it hard to focus on anything other than his warm honeyed eyes.

"That's definitely something to consider." He slowly walked me backward until I bumped against the wall that separated us from the ice. "I thought I might make another suggestion." Instead of stopping, he pressed up against me, pinning me to the wall. With one hand on my waist, and the other flat against the wall behind me, there was nowhere to escape. Like I had any real desire to.

"Like what?" I swallowed, trying my very best to play hard to get. If only to try and prove a point that his gift, however wonderful, hadn't magically turned me into some simpering puddle of goo.

Who was I kidding, it totally had.

"Oh, you know," his voice murmured in my ear as his hot breath left a slow trail along my incredibly sensitive skin. "Nothing from a shop." His voice rumbled against my throat, his lips warming my exposed neck and starting to make my heart race. This was totally unfair, people shouldn't _have_ these kinds of dangerous flirting powers. It should be _illegal_. "Something a little more…_personal_." His mouth dragged along my jaw, barely touching me and he stopped just short of my lips. My breath hitched in my throat. It was really hard to think when he was doing that. _Really_.

"Oi!" Donna's abrupt voice slowed my libido, but only just. "You two planning to put on a show?" I turned my head partly to see her, and partly just so I could breathe again. But looking at her reminded me that there _were_ actually other people around. I had just sort of, forgotten that small fact. Of course, Donna was looking terrible pleased with herself.

"Maybe, if you're lucky." The Professor flashed a smile, but looked more annoyed at the interruption than anything. Apparently, the man had plans.

"I'm sure." Donna snorted. "Just don't get yourself arrested, alright? Think of the children." She smirked as she skated away, giving us our small bit of privacy again.

"So," I cleared my throat, trying to bring my temperature back down to normal. "You'll just jot down a list of suggestions for me? Should I expect that soon? I mean, I have no idea when _actual _Christmas is, since we're not technically in the same galaxy-" He cupped my face in his hand and pressed his warm lips against my own. There was a split second where I considered what Donna had said, but then I was melting against him. What was I saying about back to normal? That wasn't happening. His hand was sliding up my jacket now, bringing a fresh chill to my stomach, and his hungry mouth worked readily against my own. It was hard to think of anything other than 'more' and 'oh god _yes_' especially when I absolutely didn't want this to stop. He finally did pull away, watching me with his cheshire grin. I probably looked like someone who'd just been thrown from a train.

"You uh…really seem to know what you're doing…" I stammered. Breathe. Remember to breathe.

"Merry Christmas, Fitz." He said with a small smile as he brushed a strand of my hair back behind my ear. He caught my lips once more, this kiss gentler than the first, but no less invigorating.

"Merry Christmas to you, idiot." I said after I managed to catch my breath.

"See, now _that_ I'm going to make you sorry for." He said very seriously. "Not sure we'll need an audience for that." His eyes held a dangerous promise and I shivered beneath his warm touch. I was going to get him an ugly hat _every_ year.


End file.
